


The Eyes Of Your Heart

by trinipedia



Series: When Everything Else Is A Lie [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: A prima vista AU, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, F/F, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by a Movie, Little violence - it's the Mob after all, Love Triangles, M/M, Meddling Friends, Movie Rewriting, Romantic Comedy, Something Made Them Do It, Surprise Ending, Team Barry, Team Ray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:44:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinipedia/pseuds/trinipedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mobster in training Leonard "Len" Snart runs into a widowed policeman, Barry Allen, assistant police forensic investigator, and he's suddenly pulled to him. He doesn't know that Barry's dead wife Patty's eyes were donated to him thanks to a transplant. Barry and Len experience a strange attraction that neither party can explain, thanks to organ donor anonymity laws. Soon, to the shock and disgust of his gangster family and peevish bride-to-be Caitlin, Len begins acting in ways unbecoming a future godfather, while Barry cannot explain to himself why he can't stop thinking about Len's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Every Single Smile Has Disappeared

**Author's Note:**

> Now beta'ed by the incredibly awesome **catwalksalone**. Without her, nothing would make sense!
> 
> Not mine in any way, shape or form. Based on the Italian movie "A Prima Vista", so if there's anything you think you recognize, I probably didn't write it.  
> Characters from The Flash and DC's Legends of Tomorrow, obviously, don't belong to me. I'm just playing with them.  
> Fic's title is from "Eyes Of The Heart (Radio's Song)" by India Arie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxsVBgyn44Q  
> The chapters' titles are from "How do I get there from here" by China Anne McClain: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOhCJA2CNqU  
> The series' title is a quote from here: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/b5/ed/6a/b5ed6a594ee9ef2cc1c91e813199c2a7.jpg "Your eyes speak the truth when everything else is a lie"

Barry Allen wakes up every morning at 7.30.

He is an assistant police forensic investigator, one of the best, they say, but he can't seem to be able to get to work on time.

_Len, obviously, doesn't know any of this._

The first thing Barry does when he wakes up is roll over and take a look at his beautiful wife.

Patty looks even more beautiful when she's asleep, none of that frowning expression she often wears when Barry gets home late, or when he's too engrossed in his work and forgets to call, or when he's tired and can't manage anything more than a few kisses and a little groping before falling asleep.

There's no reproval in her clear, blue eyes when she's asleep, and Barry takes as much as he can from these few stolen moments before nudging her slightly.

If he didn't center himself, reminding to himself why he chose this woman, why he married her, why they are still together despite their differences and their problems, the whole story would probably happen very differently.

_But then again, Len doesn't know any of this._

Finally Patty wakes up, eyes fluttering open, focusing on Barry as she smiles at him, sweetly, gaze so full of love and adoration that then, right there, Barry gets the strength to make it through one more day, because what would he do, who would he be without someone who looks at him this way?

He smiles back, brushing his lips tenderly on hers. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead," he murmurs, caressing her rosy cheek.

She chuckles. "Get off me, you're heavy," she jokes, and Barry rolls off of her.

"That's only because Martin's infamous chimichangas are catching up with me," he mutters. "No dinner for me tonight."

Patty laughs openly, at that. "You know you can't resist anything that man puts in front of you," she points out. "Sometimes I'm even a little jealous."

Barry rolls his eyes, before his gaze falls on the clock and he swears colorfully. "I'm late!" he exclaims, scrambling up, but then Patty grabs his arm and pulls him back down, kissing him deeply.

Barry breaks the kiss, keeping her at arm's length. "Come on, Patty, you know that Singh will have my ass if I don't get to the precinct on time at least twice a week!" he complains.

And there it is, the frown.

"If you're late, it's not my fault. You got home at, like, 2 a.m. last night, working for Singh I might add, so I don't get how he can complain at all."

Barry sighs. "We already spoke about this" he starts, but Patty lifts a hand.

"Exactly, we did. And in the end, no matter what I say, you always do what you want. So just go."

Barry's shoulders sag as he registers the unhappy and disappointed expression on his wife's face.  
As usual, he's managed to spoil her day. And his, obviously.

"I didn't have the time to take Chronos out," he says in the end.

Patty shrugs. "Of course you didn't. I'll take care of it, like I did last night. Don't worry."

Barry opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, unable to find the right words to say. Should he apologize? Should he say screw Singh and jump back in the bed with Patty? Would any of those options fix anything?

In the end, Patty takes the choice out of his hands. "Weren't you late?" she asks, arching an unimpressed eyebrow.

Barry nods and grabs his jacket, walking out of their bedroom. "I love you," he says, out loud, before closing the door behind him, but not hearing the reply he sighs again.

Only once he's out of range Patty shakes her head and murmurs, "No, you don't."

_But Barry, and obviously Len, know nothing about this._

*****

"Allen! Are you even listening to a single word I'm saying?!" David Singh roars, and Barry cringes inwardly.

His mind has been distracted all day, preoccupied with what he will find at home tonight when he gets there. Every day he knows might possibly be the last one of his married life, but he's apparently too cowardly to put an end to their misery himself. So, as for everything else in his life, the responsibility to make the decisions, especially the hard ones, goes to someone else. Singh at work, Patty at home...

Barry suddenly remembers a song from a Disney movie, the one about the long-haired blonde trapped in a tower, you know the one? She sang something like _when is my life going to start_ and boy, does Barry understand how she feels.

_Len would probably laugh at how Barry is such a ridiculous romantic._

"Barry!" Detective Joe West—the man who's like a father to Barry—is staring at him with an amused expression, while Singh looks ready to decapitate him.

"I am not your secretary, okay?" Joe states, his irritation obviously faked.

"This is the last time I take one of your personal calls because you're too lost in your own world to hear the phone ring."

Barry blinks, confused. Singh rolls his eyes and points at the phone on his desk. There's a red blinking light.

"Line two," Singh hisses before storming out of Barry's office.

Joe snorts and sits down, waiting for Barry to be done so that they can talk about whatever is bothering him. Barry really loves Joe; he doesn't know what he would have done without him. He sighs, looks at Joe apologetically and picks up the receiver.

"Barry Allen," he answers. His face drops instantly. “I-I'm not sure I understand,” he stutters, standing up.  
He moves slowly, too slowly compared to how fast his heart is beating. All of a sudden, his world just crumbled around him, without a warning, a sign, nothing.

Barry hears a crashing sound, far away. He vaguely realizes that the vials he was holding in his hand are not in his hand anymore, and maybe a part of his brain _is_ kind of worrying about the consequences of destroying some most likely irreplaceable evidence, but all he can focus on, all he can listen to is his blood roaring in his ears and the voice of the doctor on the other side of the call, who’s still talking and probably Barry should listen to him, but he can’t. He just can’t.

He steps away from his desk, the phone sliding through the fingers of his _other_ hand and grabbed a mere instant before it falls, as he grabs his jacket and steps on the broken glass, flinching at the crunching sound that now echoes in the silent room, more ominous than it should be.

Joe looks up, surprised, and something in Barry's expression probably alarms him, because he stands up as well.

"What kind of accident?" Barry asks, voice cracking, before the receiver falls from his hands, joining the vials on the floor with a clattering sound.

"Barry, what's wrong?" Joe asks, putting a hand on his shoulder, but Barry pulls back abruptly.

"Patty has been run over," he says, before flashing out of the precinct.

***

It feels like a lifetime for Barry, sitting in that waiting area. He doesn't know what's going on with Patty, he wants to see her, but they won't let him. They are not even explaining clearly what happened, or how they plan on fixing it.

There are two other men in the room, deep in thought, and they look equally concerned. One of them is huge, like a brick wall, hairless head and a stern expression which probably makes lesser men pee their pants, but it's currently toned down by how crumpled his shirt looks. The man next to him has a ragged, handsome look going for him, short strawberry blonde hair and a red leather jacket. He looks marginally more in control than his friend.

Barry is thinking about going to them, strike a conversation, maybe support each other, because shouldn't a shared suffering be easier to handle? But just as he's taking a step towards the strange couple, his father comes in.

"Dad?!" he says, fists clenching.

Henry sighs and shakes his head.

"She didn't make it, son," he explains, voice sad, as he grips Barry’s shoulder tightly. They have never been very close; due to a medical scandal Henry got mixed up in because he refused to sell out, the man spent half of Barry’s teenage life behind bars, before Joe, who took Barry in and handled the investigation, managed to find enough proof to get him released.

Henry and Barry have been trying to mend their relationship for the last few years, and even if Barry never really doubted his father’s integrity, he can’t help but still feel like there’s a stranger in front of him instead of his father.

Still, he’d accept any sort of comfort he could get at this point. He had demanded Joe leave him alone: the man has already enough problems with his own family; Barry really doesn’t want to burden him any more than he needs to.

 

"We did everything we could, but we couldn't stop the internal bleeding. I'm sorry."

Barry stumbles a little, dropping on one of the plastic chairs and hiding his face in his hands. "What can I do?" he asks, breathing ragged and voice shaky. "What am I supposed to do now, Dad?"

Henry sits next to him and wraps an arm around Barry's shoulders. As soon as he pulls slightly, Barry loses himself against his father's strong chest, letting out all of his tears. What hurts the most is the clear knowledge that he’s not hurting as much as he should.

_Len would have found and killed that reckless driver, justice be damned, because no one has any right to hurt Barry this way. Truth is, however, that without the reckless driver we wouldn't have any story to tell._

***

Once Barry has marginally calmed down, Henry pulls him along to his office.

"Trust me, son, I really wouldn't want to spring this on you so soon, but we don't have much time."

Barry looks confused for a second, but then it dawns on him. Patty had signed up for organ donation when they got married.

"We have a potential match, and we need to be quick if you want to-"

"I accept," Barry interrupts him. "This is what she wanted," he adds. _And considering I've never done anything she asked me to when she was alive, I should at least respect her wishes once she's dead_ , he thinks dejectedly.

"She wanted to remain anonymous though," he adds as an afterthought, and Henry nods.

"Would you want to know what we donate or who gets it?" he asks, even if he already knows the answer.

Barry shakes his head, slowly. "I don't think I could take it" he replies in a whisper. He looks down at his wedding band and feels like crying again.

***

When he's leaving the hospital, he gets a glimpse of a beautiful, slender, dark-haired woman talking to the two men in the waiting area. The bald one jumps up and hugs her, trembling slightly, while the handsome one smacks his knees and laughs shakily, and Barry finds himself smiling a little.

At least someone got their miracle today.

***

When Len opens his eyes for the first time after surgery, the world looks different. He still has his goggles on (around his neck, but still) and even his parka.

_Aw, Mick, so considerate._

Mick is probably standing on the left side of his hospital bed, which means that Jay is on the right.  
The shuffling sound of leather confirms it.

_There you have it, ladies and gentleman, Leonard Snart's bodyguards._

"It's all in the eyes," the TV is saying.

Of course, Mick and Jay are watching that stupid Merlyn dude. Len really has to talk to them about it.

"Malcolm Merlyn can see everything in your eyes. Past, future-destiny! I can see your lover in your eyes."

Len would probably roll his eyes if he could, but for now, with the gauzes and the wrapping, he can only flutter his eyelids. He groans his disappointment.

"Boss!" Mick's voice sounds a little hysterical.

Len can only imagine what these past few days must have been like for him. Working for _Lisa_? Talk about a _nightmare_.

"Stop squeaking every time he makes a sound," Jay states. "The doctor says he isn't properly out of the anesthesia yet."

"When people sleep, they can hear everything, you know." Mick retorts. "In fact, while sleeping you're even smarter than when you're awake."

"Speak for yourself" Jay mutters and Mick growls.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Guys, guys, cool down," Len drawls, slowly sitting up.

"Boss!" his goons exclaim, running to his side. Mick grabs his arm, Jay bumps his fist against his shoulder.

"Good news, Mr. Snart," the doctor says, entering the room. "You will make a full recovery. The tumor has been removed successfully and the operation went by without a hitch."

Len smiles, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "Thank you, Doctor, I really appreciate it."

_Of course, Barry doesn't know any of this._

***

It's been six months from the surgery and, just like Henry Allen said, there has been no trouble at all. Len has been slowly getting back in the business, back to happily sleeping around _a lot_ , back to getting his hands (and mouth) on every willing girl who crosses his path. And there are so many willing girls.

"How does he manage?" Mick grumbles. "That's the fourth one today."

Jay chuckles. "He's a stallion," he replies. "Doesn't even know what tying down means, doesn't know about pressure, anxiety, performance. He just goes in, unloads and pulls out. Oh, I admire him so much."

Mick arches an eyebrow. "Can I go burn something?" he asks.

Jay rolls his eyes. "You already torched Bivolo's warehouse this morning!"

Mick shrugs. "It's never enough."

"Anyway, the Boss is a real man. Not like all those Friends of Dorothy around the world," Jay concludes.

Mick frowns, confused.

"Dorothy? Who's that?"

Jay throws his hands up. "No one! It's like a codename! For gay people. Queers, you know?"

Mick stares at Jay as if he's grown a second head. "What the hell are you on about?"

"Just saying that the Boss couldn't be a Friend of Dorothy, 'cause his _gun_ works too well" Jay explains.

Mick grunts. "Gay people fuck too, you know?"

Jay narrows his eyes. "It's different! They're like...it's different."

Mick looks at him for a split second, then pulls out his lighter and stares at the flame. "Idiot," he mutters.

Jay is about to say something, but right then Len comes in from the pool, a fancy bathrobe wrapped around his muscular frame. All his tattoos are on display, and his short hair is still wet and slightly spiky.

"Guys, stop wasting time. My rehearsal dinner is in a couple of hours and I still didn't get Caitlin a present."

"Rochells?" Jay asks, standing up and cocking his gun.

Len smirks. "As if I'd ever rob any other store."

***

They end up being almost an hour late to the rehearsal dinner, because Mick and Jay have never been huge jewelry experts and the owners of the store have been very unhelpful. You'd think that after the fourth robbery they'd learn how to please a thief.

When they finally get home, Lewis, Len's father, looks greatly disappointed, and so does Len's future in-law, Harrison Wells, whose daughter Caitlin is the woman Len is going to marry. Len's sister, Lisa, wouldn't have missed the dinner for the world: she loves to watch her brother being uncomfortable, and there's nothing that makes Len more uncomfortable than Caitlin Snow (she didn't want any links to her father's name due to his criminal activities, but she didn't refuse his laundry money to go to college, did she?).

The girl is too cold even for Len.

Lisa's best friends Thea, Sara and Laurel are also there--they never miss free food. Lewis is looking at his watch for what must be the fiftieth time when Len, Jay and Mick enter the room, and Harrison's expression is downright murderous. None of them bother Len as much as Caitlin's icy glare.

"Why are you so late?" Lisa hisses, welcoming him at the door. "Caitlin is furious, and don't make me start with Harrison..."

Len grins at her. "Could I come to my rehearsal dinner without a proper gift for my future wife?" he points out, shaking the box in his hand.

Lisa looks intrigued. "What's in there?" she asks, and Len winks at her.

"You'll see in a minute."

He walks out to the terrace, followed by his goons, and smiles widely at all the guests sitting at the table waiting for him. "Sorry I'm late, everyone, but I had to pick up a little something for the most beautiful woman in this room" he drawls, leaving the box right in front of Caitlin.

The girl's stern expression doesn't really vanish until she opens the box and her jaw drops. There's an honest to God princess tiara. "Fuck yeah," she murmurs, and Lisa snorts.

Caitlin coughs awkwardly. "I didn't expect such a tasteful piece," she says, trying to keep up her demeanor, but her eyes sparkle.

Len high fives himself inwardly.

"Let's eat now," Lewis suggests.

"Finally, all the tempura must have gone soggy by now," Sara mutters.

***

As Lisa, Caitlin, Sara, Laurel and Thea have dessert on the terrace, Lewis, Harrison, Len, Mick and Jay sit in the living room to discuss business. Lewis's and Harrison's goons stay outside to keep an eye on the girls. Being two of the most powerful Mob families of the country, they couldn't risk the chance of petty criminal kidnapping anyone. Where would their reputation go then?

"This wedding has a very special meaning, son" Lewis starts, and Len huffs.

"Don't call me that. You lost the right the first time you put your cigarette out on Lisa's arm," he hisses.

Lewis rolls his eyes and waves his hand in the air. "Water under the bridge," he replies dismissively.

"Anyway, what Lewis is trying to explain is that I and he decided that we want to unite our families in order to create a single, huge and powerful Mob organization to rule the country," Harrison chimes in.

"Being the only man in the family aside from the two of us, we decided that you will be the new head of the organization once you and Caitlin get married," Lewis states.

Harrison narrows his eyes and stares inquisitively at Len. "Basically, we need to know if you feel like you can fill our shoes," he says. "We aren't sure if you're man enough for the job, so to speak."

"What-" Mick moves as if to stand up, but Len's hand on his arm calms him instantly.

"Let the man speak, Mick, come on," he drawls, showing his friend and bodyguard that he has everything under control.

Mick sits back down, grumbling, his eyes never leaving Harrison.

"Please, do go on," Len says, with a nod towards him.

"I simply meant that it's not easy," Harrison snaps. "The police are always sniffing around, and the only reason Lewis and I never had any trouble was that we had the chief on our payroll. Now the chief has changed and he doesn't seem the type to get dirty."

Lewis snorts. "Tell that to his asshole."

Len's head turns slowly towards him. "What do you mean by that?"

Lewis' smirk turns mean. "He's a fag," he spits out.

Jay looks at Mick and mouths _Friend of Dorothy_.

"I really don't see what that has to do with our predicament" Len points out, visibly annoyed.

"Just harder to please a fag than a normal whore lover, that's all" Lewis concludes.

Mick looks ready to pounce, and even Jay, with his dislike for homosexual people, seems displeased with the display.

Harrison rolls his eyes. "Let's go back to the main topic of this conversation, please," he says. "Being a leader means authority and respect, which you will get only if you deserve it. So my question is: do you have enough balls to be a Mob Boss, or are you as much as a girl as your sister?"

Len's smirk widens. "You should really ask your daughter that," he replies, calmly, before he stands and leaves the room without waiting for Harrison's reply.

***

"Everything will get better, you'll see," Malcolm Merlyn is saying to a caller.

"If you want to come around to my studio, I will read your eyes, because it's the eyes that tell me-"  
Barry turns off the TV and rubs his chin.

There's the beginning of a scruffy stubble there, not much, since he has never been the hairy type, but enough to give him the unkempt look Patty always hated.

_Patty._

His chest clenches at the thought of her; even after six months, it still hurts. Barry feels guilty, can't really help it. They'd had a fight that morning, maybe she was nervous and distracted and that was why...

He sighs. Standing up, he goes to his bedside table, grabbing Patty's framed photo. He stares at her, so intently that he doesn't hear the door opening. Chronos does, and happily bounces towards the newcomers.

"You have the keys?" a young, unknown voice asks, and the more mature, familiar voice of his next door neighbor chef Martin Stein replies "I have them because since Barry's wife died he doesn't even come to open the door, Cisco."

"Too depressed?" the young one (Cisco) inquires, and Barry cringes.

It feels weird and hurtful hearing people talk about him and his sadness as if he's not there because they don't think he can grasp anything outside his own mind. That's not it.

"So you're asking me to take care of someone who can't even open a door?" Cisco whines.

"He's a good man, Cisco. A friend. And a police officer."

Cisco gasps. "Are you _out_ of your goddamned _mind_?! With my history? Do you want me to go to jail?!" he hisses.

His words at least catch Barry's interest enough to get him out of the bedroom and into the living room.

"Martin, is that you?" he calls out as he enters.

Martin smiles. "Yeah, Barry, I brought you something to eat."

Barry smiles sadly. "I'm really not hungry," he states, but Martin puts the container on the kitchen table.

"Nonsense. You need to eat."

Barry sighs and gives in, as he usually does, sitting at the table as Martin puts a plate and silverware in front of him.

"It's just spinach filled mushrooms, light but full of vitamins and minerals" he explains as he puts some on a plate.

Barry's gaze turns on Cisco, and he arches an eyebrow. Cisco fidgets.

"This is my nephew, Cisco," Martin explains.

"He's a good guy, and all the accusations of hacking are most certainly a lie."

Cisco shrugs and Barry snorts. Suddenly, he feels better now that he's not alone at home with only Patty's memory to keep him company, and he doesn't want them to leave.

"Why don't you guys grab a chair and we eat together?" he suggests.

"You could tell me everything about this hacking incident you have nothing to do with."

Cisco nods excitedly, and Martin hides a smile as he turns to get more plates.

***

"Why don't you take Chronos out yourself today, for a change?" Martin suggests once they're done with lunch, and Barry feels the well-known panic assault him.

"But I...I really don't know if..."

Martin grabs the leash and put it in Barry's hand, as Chronos yaps and wags his tail happily. "Nonsense" he says. "It's your dog, it's your job. I'm tired of picking up his excrement, it's really unbefitting for a chef of my caliber."

Barry sees straight through his bullshit, but doesn't call him on it. Martin is right, it's time for him to go back to normal. That's what Patty would have wanted. He nods to himself and gets his jacket on.

"We'll stay here and reorganize a little," Martin adds, squeezing his shoulder.

Cisco looks around. "More than a little." he mutters. "Looks like a nuclear bomb went off in here."

Barry shakes his head. "You really don't have to do that."

Martin glares at him and opens his mouth, but Barry lifts a hand.

"I know, I know" he smiles.

"Nonsense."


	2. Is There Another Road That's Left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roy's dance is basically this one: https://youtu.be/5CW2mFBAPWM I adore this dancer, he's incredible.  
> There are nudges at Hook, Mrs. Doubtfire and Kinky Boots-can you find them?

Like every Saturday morning, Len gets in his car at 2pm sharp. Together with Jay and Mick, they always find time to run at least a couple of hours in the park after lunch. The park at this hour is calm, not many passersby, and that allows them all the freedom they need. They cross a few joggers, a couple of pretty girls they whistle at dutifully, as they exchange comments about life, dietary needs, sweat...a little of everything.

Mick is obviously way more athletic than Jay, but Len is more than a match for either of them. With his gym shorts and his wife-beater tight against his muscular chest, he really doesn't need his money or his status to make every head turn. Girls, guys...it doesn't really matter. They all look at him.

There's even a lanky, young guy with a slightly wrinkled jacket who looks up from where his dog is running around his feet. His green eyes, red-rimmed, stop on Len like a caress, while his light brown hair seems to shine under the first afternoon sun. Before he can stop himself, Len's greeting him.

"Hey baby," he murmurs, almost a purr, as he runs past him, the words registering in his brain only after they're already out. Len keeps running, away from him as fast as he humanly can, then suddenly his legs come to a halt and he stops abruptly.

"What the fuck?" he asks himself, shaken.

"I'm first!" Mick exclaims as he stops next to him.

"I'm alive!" Jay exhales breathlessly.

Neither of them notices anything is wrong with Len until they look at him and see his face, white as chalk.

"Boss?" Mick asks, uncertain.

Len doesn't waste time replying, instead he starts running again, back towards the weird guy that made him, womanizer extraordinaire, feel that spark of passion for another man. It has never, ever happened before and Len is shocked and confused, but he also knows that if he doesn't find that guy he will regret it for the rest of his life.

***

"Come on, Chronos. Give me the paw. Come on!" Barry huffs. He has never been able to get the stupid dog to do anything, not even come to him when he gets home. Despite him being _his_ dog, the only person the animal obeyed was Patty.

He sighs and stands back up, then hears the gravel crunch behind him. He turns and there he is again, the handsome stranger he couldn't stop himself from staring at earlier. Again, he finds himself unable to not stare. He's tall: all muscle, a strong chest barely hidden from a tight wife-beater. There are lots of colorful tattoos all over his biceps, some of it coming out of the cotton right up his neck, which makes Barry wonder where they end. 

His strong jaw, slightly scruffy, is begging to be licked, and those soft, plump lips...But what draws him in, what completely and utterly destroys in a second all of Barry's security of being a hundred percent straight, are his eyes. They look blue, but then a cloud covers the sun and they turn gray, piercing.

Like ice.

Barry shivers, because he can't help it; he feels warm and cold at the same time. He opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but then those lips part in a grin and there are crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He's breathtakingly beautiful when he smiles. The guy looks at Chronos and claps his hands, and what does the traitor do? Jump into his arms. His muscular, sweaty, _big_ arms.

Barry swallows, his mouth dry all of a sudden. "I'm-I'm sorry about that," he stutters, getting the dog off Len's chest. His fingertips brush the man's skin lightly.

"It's no big deal," the man drawls.

"So weird...Chronos never jumped on anyone before," Barry adds as an afterthought.

The man's grin turns into a smirk. "His name's Chronos? You're a geek, aren't you?"

Barry blushes. "Well, I-no one really calls me that, anymore. Only my wife." As soon as the words are out, Barry feels the usual pang of longing in his chest and he has to close his eyes for a split second. When he opens them again, the man is staring at him intently, concern plain to see in his stormy eyes.

"Are you married?" he asks, and he sounds almost...disappointed.

Barry licks his lips and looks away, busying himself with petting Chronos. "Not anymore," he mutters. "She died".

The man lets out a sigh. "Oh, good," he murmurs.

Barry's eyes snap up and he frowns. "What?"

"Nothing, I-"

"Boss, we have to go!"

A bald, muscular guy and a lanky, handsome one reach them and keep running on, so the man nods at Barry and offers him another smile.

"Goodbye," he says, before jogging away.

"Wait," Barry calls after him, "what was _good_ supposed to mean?!"

He's left there, though, staring at the man as he leaves, and boy, his ass has no need to be envious of his face.

_What is wrong with me?!_

***

"Boss, what's wrong?" Mick asks as soon as they stop.

"Should we shoot the dog?" Jay inquires, hand already on his gun.

Len glares at them. "If you touch a single hair on the head of that dog I will skin you alive," he hisses, narrowing his eyes. "Let's get the car, I need to find out where he lives."

***

"He's not coming out," Jay whines, "and the sweat is drying up on me. I can feel a cold coming on."

Mick snorts. "You're such a melodramatic prick," he retorts. "He _is_ taking a long time though," he adds.

Len huffs. "Do you have other arrangements, guys? Do you have anything else to do? What's your problem, huh?"

Mick and Jay cringe.

"Nothing, Boss, of course," Mick lifts both his hands.

"If you want to stay here, we stay, obviously," Jay nods.

Len is about to say something, but right then they see the guy coming out of his building. He's wearing a lab coat, with the logo of the Central City police department.

"He's in the police!" Jay murmurs.

Mick looks at Len in awe. "How did you know, Boss? You are awesome!"

Len doesn't even listen to them. His heart has just sunk to his feet, even though the lab coat does wonders for the guy's body, makes him look like he's straight out of a porn movie. Only Mick's and Jay's confused glances tell him he just said that out loud.

_Oh, shit._

***

"Hey, Len," Caitlin purrs as she enters the room.

Len snaps his bathrobe closed. "Caitlin! I didn't expect you to-"

The woman moves closer, and Len steps back.

"What's wrong, _dear_?" she murmurs, taking her blouse off.

Len swallows hard. "Caitlin, don't make promises you don't intend to keep," he hisses, trying to maintain his cool. "I'm just a man."

Caitlin smirks. "But I only want a kiss," she says, undoing the bathrobe's belt and placing her palms on Len's pecs.

He grabs her wrists, pulling her hands away. "You said you didn't want me to even _look_ at you with desire until after the wedding, and now you come here trying to seduce me?" He narrows his eyes. "Don't complain once I ravish you so bad you can't walk."

Len is perfectly aware that he's just talking the talk, because right now his head is full of images of that forensic guy and he probably couldn't get hard even if he tried.

Caitlin snorts. "Hold your horses, cowboy," she says. "I just want a kiss. If there's no chemistry, the wedding is off."

Len swallows, then grabs her neck and smashes their lips together. If she wants a kiss, hell, she will get a kiss. Len will worry about anything else afterwards.

***

"Poor Allen," Singh says, looking at Barry's hunched back. "Looked like he was finally starting to get over his wife's death, but now..."

Joe stares at Barry as he leaves and shrugs. "You know, Captain, I don't think that's it," he replies, pensively. "He's sad, that's true, but that's not the same desperation he was in until a few days ago."

The Captain huffs. "As long as he does his job, I don't care about his problems," he states gruffly before stomping away.

Joe snorts. He knows Singh is worried, even if he's too proud to admit it.

***

“So you are telling me that when you kissed her you didn’t feel anything?”

The woman stares at him from over her thin-rimmed glasses, then swats her blonde ponytail and writes something on the notepad she has on top of her crossed knee.

Len rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say _anything_ of the sorts, I just said-”

“In fact, your actual words were _that kiss annoyed the shit out of me_ ,” she interrupts him, her eyes inquisitive and piercing. “Did it ever happen to you before you met that guy in the park?”

Len glares at her with his best mobster impression, but the woman doesn’t seem fazed at all. She keeps staring, expectantly, and in the end he just sighs. “No,” he admits. “Never. _Ever._ I love kissing women,” he drawls, winking at her.

She arches an eyebrow. “Fine, then. I think that in order for me to get a clear picture of what’s going on, I’m going to need details. Please, tell me the whole story again, and this time, don’t leave anything out.”

Len groans, but doesn’t even bother trying to protest. Something tells him that Doctor Smoake is not the kind of person you win against. “Fine,” he relents. “But if a single word of what I’m going to tell you gets out of this room, Miss Bell, no amount of clapping will bring you back from where I will send you.”

Her lips twitch, so Len knows she got the reference. That makes him relax a little before he opens up and goes over everything once more.

***

When their luxurious car enters the driveway, Len looks up and sees Caitlin on the balcony. She is wearing a thin, summer dress, her porcelain skin on display almost glowing under the sun. Her auburn hair is waving softly in the breeze, her gaze distant and pensive. She looks like she’s straight out of every man’s dream. When the car approaches, she seemingly snaps out of her reverie and looks down at them, bright red lips bending in a small smirk.

Len feels a cold shiver run down his spine, and he grabs Mick’s arm. “I changed my mind,” he hisses. “Let’s go to a bar.”

Jay blinks, distracted by Caitlin who’s now furrowing her brow since they are making no attempt to get out of the car. “Shouldn’t we get changed, or-” he starts asking, but Len lifts a hand.

“If the Boss says we go, we go,” Mick replies. He shifts gears and the car turns, quickly getting the three of them out of sight.

***

Caitlin’s eyebrows melt into her hairline as she looks at the dust left in the car’s wake.

_What the **Hell** is going on?!_

She stomps back in the house and goes straight to Lisa’s room. As she expected, Laurel, Thea and Sara are there, while Lisa is nowhere to be seen. Caitlin crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Another woman bewitched him, I’m sure,” she growls.

Laurel blinks. She starts shaking her head, but before she can say a word Sara clears her throat. 

“Something must have happened, actually,” she states candidly, ignoring Laurel’s scandalized look. “Come on, Laurel, he's put all his dirty socks and boxers _in the hamper_!”

Thea gasps. “I didn’t want to say anything, but...yesterday he hung his bathrobe after he showered. And he came out of the bathroom already dressed.”

“That's even worse than I thought,” Caitlin mutters, then glances around the small group. “Not a single word to Lisa, you hear me? She would get such a huge kick out of all this, I’d never live it down if it's true he's fallen in love with someone else.”

“And what about Lewis? If he finds out, he might actually have a stroke,” Sara points out, then thinks about it and adds, “In fact, you know what-”

“You're just making a mountain out of a molehill, Cait, really,” Laurel tries to comfort her, interrupting Sara with a deadly glare. “I’m sure it will all go back to normal in no time.”

Caitlin huffs and storms out, leaving the girls alone again.

Sara shrugs. “She's a drama queen, we all know that, but...I’m afraid she might be on to something this time.” 

Thea bites her lower lip, unsure of what to say, before she settles for, “I recognize a man in love, girls. Len is in love.”

Laurel just stares at the closed door and doesn’t say anything, but deep inside she knows they are right. Len has never acted this way, all proper and tidy and...oh, God, if Lisa finds out they are all dead.

***

When Doctor Felicity Smoake had told Len she knew of a place that would clarify a lot of things for him, he hadn't really expected _this_. Admittedly, he knew it was going to be some sort of gay club, because come on, anyone could see that something is definitely very wrong with his sexuality right now, but he thought it would be something like you see in movies, like that club in that gay-themed supernatural show—what was the name?— _Wolf_ something

Instead, the club they are at doesn’t look as sleazy and promiscuous as that one. It’s actually pretty classy. The waiters all wear tuxedos, the decoration is minimal, there are even pricey paintings on the wall that the guests can buy. He’s sipping a cocktail that tastes pretty damn good. Things aren’t looking bad at all, until all of a sudden a scantily dressed young man appears in the center of the room. He had been wondering why the room was so large but still there were only a handful of tables in a circle around the edge.

The young man is wearing white tights and a lot of symbols and runes drawn on his sculpted, athletic body. As soon as he’s in position, all the lights are turned off save for a spotlight on him. Everyone goes silent, expectant, even as the flashes of multiple cameras start from all over the room. A soft flute starts playing in the background, and the man starts moving in time with the music. His body flexes and twirls, stretches and springs, swings and turns, jumps and rolls, and Len is simply entranced. He can’t look away, he can’t blink, he can’t _breathe_. He has never seen anything as captivating as this dance.

When the music stops, so does the man, like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut off, chest heaving with exertion and sweat running down his pecs and shoulder blades as he turns and bows at the room, the applause roaring and deafening. Len didn’t even realize he was moving, but then suddenly here he is, standing up and clapping like crazy. Jay and Mick are staring at him, surprised and a little confused, but he can’t really say anything.

“Thank you so much, everyone!” The guy is talking in a microphone someone has brought to him, as he dries his hair with a white, fluffy-looking towel draped on his shoulders. “I’m Roy and this was Sergei Polunin’s choreography for "Bombay Theme" by A.R. Rahman. Hope you enjoyed!”

Another enthusiastic round of applause answers his question and he chuckles, obviously pleased by the crowd’s reaction. “Now, please give the same warm welcome to...Malcolm Merlyn!”

New, even louder applause almost stops Len from hearing the name, but even if he didn’t realize who Roy was introducing, he would have recognized him as soon as he saw him.

Malcolm Merlyn. The fucking _magician_.

“Welcome, dear friends!” the man exclaims, appearing from behind a feathery curtain. He is wearing a beige jacket, a black shirt and his short, brown hair is carefully styled. There are a lot of rings on his fingers. “I’m here to entertain you all, ladies, gentlemen…and those of you who are yet to make up your mind,” he adds, winking, and the crowd laughs.

Len sits back down, turning his back to the show and focusing on his bodyguards/friends who are staring at him. He fidgets slightly before downing almost his whole glass in a single gulp.

“That’s enough, Boss,” Mick growls, prying the glass away from Len’s fingers. “You’re going to fuck your stomach up.”

“It’s not my stomach I want to fuck, up or down,” Len mutters, loud enough that Jay’s eyes go wide and Mick slides closer.

“You-what are you talking about, Boss?” Jay whispers. “Did you fall for someone who’s not Caitlin?” _How is that even possible?_ his eyes ask, and Len has to hide a snort. He has known Jay was completely gone for Caitlin for months, but his friend has always denied it. It’s not fair he has other problems right now that stop him from gloating, dammit.

He clears his throat. “I have a problem, guys. It’s serious, very, and the only reason why I’m telling you both is that I trust you. Don’t betray me, or there will be Hell to pay.”

Mick looks torn between pride in being trusted and offense of being doubted, but he still nods, crossing his massive arms and assuming an expression of intent focus. Len is a little taken aback; he has never seen the man like this.

Here goes nothing. “I think I’m in love with the guy from the police lab,” he blurts out, staring at his hands now that he has no drink to get lost into.

His confession is met with a handful of seconds of complete silence.

“You mean...the one with the dog? From the park?” Jay asks, hesitantly. 

Len nods, curtly. “I really didn’t mean to spring this on you guys, especially you, Jay: I know how you feel about...not straight people.” His voice comes out a little more self-deprecating than he intended, and Jay is already shaking his head vehemently.

“Boss, don’t you worry about that. They are them and you are you, and-there’s nothing to worry about, this is just a single episode, you’ll see,” he replies quickly. “That dude could be easily mistaken for a girl, anyway.” 

Mick starts humming _Dude Looks Like a Lady_ , but Len stops him with an icy glare before the hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat can get out. 

“I had to tell someone, this shit is driving me crazy. You two are the only people I have who even remotely resemble friends, so...”

Mick huffs. “You’re supposed to get married in a month,” he reminds him, as Jay looks stricken.

Len shrugs. “How can I?” he retorts. “How can I, when all I can think about are his eyes?”

“Maybe this is sort of a divine intervention?” Jay suggests. “You’ve been banging too much. Maybe, like, your brain got overloaded, or something like that. Look at me, I’ve been celibate for a long while and I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re not banging anyone for other reasons,” Mick mocks him, and Jay turns abruptly, narrowing his eyes.  
“What are you trying to say, ox? That I’m a queer as well?”

“As well as who?” Mick growls menacingly. “Didn’t you just say that what happened to the Boss was an episode? Now you’re saying you think he’s gay? You are such a hypocrite.”

Jay clenches his jaw. “What do you want me to say, huh? Am I supposed to treat him like an idiot? Am I supposed to act like this isn’t freaking me out and turning my stomach a little? Should I lie and say _Oh, Boss, all is swell, every criminal who means anything is queer these days_? Or maybe I should just go and say _Don’t worry, Boss, I’m the only fag at this table_!”

They haven’t noticed they had been raising their voices, or that everyone has gone silent. What they do notice, because they have too, is the booing sounds from the crowd when Jay’s last sentence echoes in the room.

Len stands up, opening his arms apologetically. “Sorry, everyone, Tourette’s syndrome.” He sits back down, gaze cold and back stiff. “So what you’re saying is that I _am_ one of those.”

“We are most definitely not, Boss,” Mick says firmly, glaring at Jay, who nods despite his expression telling a different story. “No one is allowed to call you any names you don’t like. _Especially_ not fag, queer or-”

“I heard someone calling me,” a purring voice interrupts from behind them as Malcolm Merlyn appears at their table. “What are these three stallions doing here all alone? He inquires, eyes twinkling.

“None of your damn business,” Mick replies, gruffly, but Malcolm stares at him for a long second. 

“What happened to your nose? You have like a ski track going down here...” He runs the tip of his finger down from Mick's forehead to the tip of his nose, and Mick can’t help crinkling it up. Malcolm laughs, delighted. 

“Please, just leave,” Jay mutters, looking everywhere but at the magician, and Malcolm slides closer to him. 

“You sure about that?” he purrs, sitting on Jay’s lap and pulling slightly at his hair, nails scratching his scalp. Jay shivers, and Malcolm leans closer. “Gay people are people just like you, you little shit,” he murmurs in his ear before biting his earlobe lightly and standing back up, then his gaze stops on Len.

“Oh, this one deserves at least a striptease,” he exclaims, licking his lips. “He really does, just look at him! So precious, like a diamond in the rough.” Malcolm lifts Len’s chin to take a better look at him and freezes. “You’re not like them,” he says, his gaze deep and intense.

“Get your hands off me,” Len orders, body feeling warm all over but managing to keep his voice steady. 

Malcolm obeys, lets him go, but doesn’t stop staring. Instead, he sits on the table and leans in, stopping an inch from Len’s face, and when he talks Len can feel his breath caressing his lips. He can’t help parting them slightly.

“There’s a woman in you, sweetheart,” Malcolm murmurs. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Before Len can reply (and most likely make a fool out of himself) he hears a gun cocking and suddenly the muzzle of Mick’s .45 is pressed against the magician’s temple.

“Show’s over,” Mick growls. “We’re out of here.”


	3. Someone Hid The Sun Where I Can't Find It

Mick and Jay turn out to be extremely and surprisingly supportive. After the first shock and confusion, they accept Len with open arms ( _actually, not too open, Boss, you know, I do respect you but I wouldn't want to risk giving you the wrong idea,_ said Jay). They even take it upon them to help him understand and navigate his new _condition_ ; at first, they figure out that something must have happened, something traumatic, to alter his usual balance ( _maybe during surgery you saw the face of God, Boss, and if God is a man no one could blame you for wanting something like **that** now_ , said Mick).

They take him out dancing to actual, sleazy, _male_ clubs, get him lap dances and special performances with both exotic dancers and actual professionals, but all is useless. Len's eyes keep being captured by sweaty, lanky guys, and little Len (not really _that_ little, to be honest) stubbornly refuses to acknowledge or perform around women, no matter how hot, sexy or...many.

Things come to a head when Mick and Jay, from outside the hotel room, hear Len actually _arguing_ with one of his usual bed friends.

"It's your fault! Your attitude is really not doing _anything_ to ignite my desire, Shawna. What's with the gum? And that bored, annoyed expression? Sex is a dance, a dance for two, if I have to dance on my own why would I need you here in the first place?" Len is drawling as his bodyguards enter the room.

"My expression, attitude or gum never stopped you before, _Captain_ " Shawna retorts, mockingly, and Len narrows his eyes.

"What are you implying?" he growls, menacingly, but Shawna is apparently so used to him that she's not impressed at all.

She slides out from under the duvet and grabs her pants, walking out of the bedroom, but before she leaves she looks at him with a sneer. " _Morituri te salutant_ " she recites, swaying her hips as she exits.

"Mori-what?" Jay asks, blinking, as Mick mutters _Bitch_.

Len sighs. "It's Latin," he explains. "Means _those about to die salute you_."

Jay's gaze drops between Len's muscular legs, probably looking for proof, then he clenches his jaw. "This dying man eats twelve girls per day!" he shouts after Shawna.

"Even fifteen, if they're tourists," Mick echoes him, and Len feels lucky he at least has them, so faithful and loyal.

He sits down on the corner of the bed, putting on his boxers, and stares at his clenched hands for a few seconds. "Do I have a problem?" 

Mick's gaze goes hard. "No, Boss. No problems. You're good," he replies with certainty.

"Jay?" Len asks again, without even looking up.

Mick glares at him, and Jay swallows.

"Of course not, Boss! It's as Mick said, you're good. Great even!"

Len sighs again. "Then why the _hell_ do I feel this _bad_?!" he hides his face in his hands.

Mick and Jay exchange a worried glance.

"Boss, come on, calm down, you'll be fine," Jay tries to reassure him, patting his naked shoulder awkwardly. "You'll get through this." He slides closer to Mick and mutters, "He can't suddenly turn gay at his age, can he? He's like forty!"

Mick stares at him. "Nah, he'd have to be at least forty-five" he replies ironically, and Len, out of the blue, starts crying.

_A little side note: Len **never** cries. He just doesn’t. Some of his goons even believe he’s unable to, or maybe that he physically can’t. The real reason is that his father **trained him** against it, and by training we obviously mean **Mob** training. AKA, slight torture. Len has been burned, dropped into ice cold water, forbid from sleeping, left starving. The more he cried, the harder his father went down on him. Len even welcomed the times he was dropped in the cold water tub amongst the ice cubes, because every time he hoped he wouldn’t be allowed to come back out and it would finally be all over. That’s where his moniker **Captain Cold** was born. The only person who knows about it is Mick; he was the one holding him down. _

"I'm gonna kill myself," he sobs. "I'm gonna do it before my father or Harrison find out and they kill me first."

Mick pushes Jay out of the way and curls his huge hand against the back of Len's neck, as he used to do when they were kids and Len was sick. "Don't be an idiot, Boss," he says, rubbing Len's back in a calming gesture, and sure enough, in a minute or so the sobs slowly die down.

Len lifts his head, eyes red rimmed and so huge, and looks at Mick and Jay. Neither of his bodyguards has ever seen him so lost and- _small_. "I really don't want to get married," he admits, and Jay's eyes go wide.

"What?! You can't be serious! The wedding is in a month! Think about what that would do to Caitlin-"

Mick interrupts him hitting his stomach with his elbow. "There's no need to decide now. Everything will go back to normal with time," Mick states, while Jay shakes his head.

"I really don't think it will," he retorts, and Len's eyes fill with tears again even if he tries as hard as he can to stop them.  
What is wrong with him? He has never been this emotional, dammit! _Get a damn grip, Snart_ he orders himself _or you’re back in ice._

"Maybe it's a nightmare?" he suggests then, hopeful, but Jay keeps shaking his head.

"Nope. How could the three of us all be having the same nightmare at the same time?"

Len makes a pained sound, before he snaps his fingers. "I got it! It must be stress due to the wedding," he says, nodding to himself. "I mean, after all, I really can't stand Caitlin. It can't be easy for my subconscious to accept I'm gonna have to spend the rest of my life with her...maybe my mind is trying to protect me from a nervous breakdown to come?"

Jay glares at him and he's surely about to say something like _how dare you say something like that about Caitlin_ , so Mick stomps on his foot to effectively shut him up.

Len doesn't even notice, too wrapped up in trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for what is happening to him. "Or maybe I've just been too bad, or…or slept with too many women, and now I'm sort of bored with them, or-" 

Len is sort of grabbing at straws, and it's his voice cracking plus the note of hysteria he can hear creeping in his Boss's voice that makes it easy for Mick to make the suggestion.

"Why don't we go see him?"

***

"I really don't understand what you see in that guy," Jay mumbles as they drive through the city. "He's so not your type!"

"I would tell you if I knew," Len replies with a shrug "but I don't. I just know I can't resist it. It's ingrained under my skin, I just…I must have him."

Mick hums. "Maybe you should just fuck him then, get it out of your system?" he suggests. "Who knows, that might be all you need. A one night stand."

Len actually thinks about it for a moment. Holding the guy in his arms, kiss that long, slender neck, maybe marking it up for all his little friends at the precinct to see. Bite and suck on those luscious lips until they are swollen and wet. Grab on that hair as he's pounding into him from behind, drinking up the broken cries of pleasure as he gets deeper, deeper, deeper until- He coughs awkwardly, realizing he's already half-hard in his jeans, then shakes his head.

"Somehow I don't think that would suffice.”  
Yeah, no way a quickie would satisfy his hunger for the young man.

"It's like a sickness then," Jay points out. "You have to admit it's...wrong after all, you know. And a little disgusting. I mean, man on man? Ew."

Mick smacks him, so hard that Jay's forehead hits the dashboard and Jay groans out in pain.

"What the?- That was uncalled for, you asshole!" he complains.

Mick smirks smugly. "You want to see your next birthday? Don't talk about it that way in front of the Boss" he states, eyes focused on the road. "He is going through a difficult time, he's not well, and you-"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute" Len interrupts him, lifting his hands. "I'm perfectly _well_ , guys. I feel great, I'm not sick at all."

"He does have a glow to his skin," Jay admits, and for a moment Len almost blushes under the scrutiny.

"Be that as it may, Boss, you don't have to worry," Mick concludes. "I'll stand by your side always, no matter what. I have your back." 

"So do I!" echoes Jay.

"Just not in that way. I mean, I guess…if you wanted? If I _had _to. To save your life or whatever. I'd prefer not to. Like. At all. I mean, I-"__

__"Yeah, yeah, I got it." Len chuckles. "Thanks guys, I do appreciate it." He squeezes both their shoulders, and the weight he was carrying feels a little easier to handle._ _

__***_ _

__"So, he's not actually a cop," Jay points out, as they stare at the doorbell._ _

_Barry Allen_ it says, and the letter they stole from his mailbox was addressed to the _forensic science department_. 

__"He's not really a danger for us, then," Mick says, but Len shrugs._ _

__"Maybe not an immediate one, but he might find out some details about who committed the crime when he goes to the scene afterwards, if he's good. Which I'm sure he is." He probably really shouldn't sound so awed and fond while he talks about something that could potentially destroy his empire, but he can't help it. He just knows the kid is amazing at his job, he's sure of it._ _

__Jay's gaze shifts left and right. "Why don't we just leave, Boss?" he hisses. "I really don't like this place."_ _

__Mick looks at him. "It's a simple apartment building, Jay."_ _

__Jay bites his lower lip. "I still don't like it."_ _

__Len clenches his jaw. "We must go in," he states, and Mick moves to ring the doorbell._ _

__Jay squeaks and slaps his hand away, which makes Mick growl menacingly._ _

__"Calm down, guys, calm down," Len tries to settle them. "Let's just check if he's at home first, then we decide."_ _

__The three of them move carefully closer, and Len places his ear against the door to check for sounds from the inside._ _

__"I hear something," Jay murmurs, just as Mick says, "There's nobody home."_ _

__Len rolls his eyes and pulls out his lock pick kit. "We have to force it open."_ _

__"Can't we just come back tomorrow, lay out a plan?" Jay suggests, but Len shakes his head._ _

__"I have to understand _now_."_ _

__He pulls down the zipper on his kit, but before he can move closer once more, another door opens. The three men run up the stairs to avoid being seen; there's a young Hispanic man with long hair and a cheerful expression walking through the corridor straight towards Barry's apartment. He's humming to himself as he pulls out a key and opens the door.  
In his other hand he has a porcelain service plate covered with silver foil, and there's a delicious smell invading the hallway. Once the guy enters the apartment, he leaves the door open and Len nods at his bodyguards._ _

__This is his chance. "I'm going in," he whispers, and Mick grabs his arm._ _

__"Not alone, Boss, I'm coming with you."_ _

__Len shakes his head. "Too risky. If I don't come out in five minutes, come look for me."_ _

__And just like that, he's gone._ _

__***_ _

__Cisco is munching on his afternoon sandwich, as he sets out the table for Barry. The delicious lasagna that Martin has prepared smells incredible, and he is tempted to try a bite—Barry doesn't really eat much, so he probably won't even notice—but in the end, he decides against it._ _

__The guy deserves a whole lasagna, even if it kills Cisco inside not being able to taste it. He sighs as he puts the plate in the oven, minus the foil, and he's humming Speed Racer's theme song to himself when all of a sudden Chronos starts barking excitedly._ _

__Cisco chuckles, then splits his sandwich, offering half to the little dog. He's focused on rubbing the fluffy belly and doesn't notice the shadow sliding right outside the kitchen and towards Barry's living room. What he does notice are the two body builders right outside Barry's open door._ _

__"What do you want? I have no money with me and this is the house of a cop!" he exclaims, trying not to sound as terrified as he feels as he glances around to locate anything he can use to protect himself._ _

__"He's a forensic scientist, to be exact," the less muscular, more handsome one points out, while the brick wall next to him glares, obviously annoyed._ _

__"Just…just leave now and I'll pretend I never saw you, okay?" Cisco tries, finally grabbing the broom and holding it in front of his chest as threateningly as he can manage._ _

__The brick wall blinks, looks at him and then starts laughing. Like, straight from his belly. "We're not here to steal anything," he explains. "We're good people, not thieves!"_ _

__The narrower one throws him a nervous glance. "Well, actually-" he starts, but the body builder smacks the back of his head._ _

__"Stop joking, Jay, don't you see how scared the little man already is?"_ _

__The narrower one—Jay?—mutters to himself as the brick wall smiles at Cisco._ _

__"I'm Mick, and this is Jay. We're good buddies of the man of the house…Barry Allen," he says, holding out his hand._ _

__Cisco, who was looking at them with suspicion, grins, relieved, and shakes the proffered hand._ _

__"Oh, good then! I was starting to think this poor guy was completely alone and no one cared about him," he said, failing to notice the way the men cringe. "I'm Cisco, by the way."_ _

__Mick and Jay exchange a glance, but they keep smiling at him, albeit a little crookedly._ _

__"Cisco, why are you taking so long?…Oh, hi."_ _

__Cisco turns towards the door, his smile widening. "Guys, this is Martin Stein, retired physics professor and now esteemed chef. He's my uncle and lives next door. Martin, these are Mick and Jay. They're friends of Barry!"_ _

__Mick and Jay turn as well, offering their hands to Martin, who shakes them both firmly._ _

__"Very nice to meet you, gentlemen," he says. "I'm afraid Barry is not home at the moment, but if you want you can come over to my apartment and we can have a drink and a couple of tapas as we wait for him."_ _

__"We really can't, we have to go-" Jay starts, but Mick elbows him._ _

__"Of course we can, where should we go? We have to wait for Barry to get home, remember?"_ _

__Jay blinks, then nods. "Oh, right-of course, silly me. We'd love to have drinks and-and _tappos_ with you guys!"_ _

__Martin smiles and shows them out, as Cisco closes the door behind himself._ _

__Neither of them notices the worried glance Mick and Jay throw at the empty apartment as they leave._ _

__***_ _

__Len is standing as still as he can in a dark corner of the living room where he hid as soon as he heard the commotion. Mick and Jay, bless them, deflected the attention of both Cisco and Martin, and despite the interference of Chronos, who acts like he has known Len all his life and wants nothing more than to play with him, he is not discovered. As soon as the door closes and the apartment is dark, Len drops the dog to the floor—carefully, he's not a monster—and goes exploring, hoping he can somehow make sense of what he feels for the young scientist._ _

__He enters the bedroom, where some light comes in through the lowered blinds.  
Everything is a mess: clothes discarded on the unmade bed, shoes thrown to opposite sides of the room, a couple of glasses, an half empty beer bottle, a dirty dish...Len's heart clenches. Barry must be feeling so alone and uncared for at the moment, especially with his wife gone. On the one hand, Len's egotistically happy Barry's not taken, but he can't even begin to imagine how he would feel if the love of his life died._ _

__His mind chooses that precise moment to show him a flash of Barry shot and bleeding on the pavement, and Len has to lie down on the bed to stop the room from spinning. How can he be so affected by what happens to a man he barely knows? A cop, on top of that? He slowly sits back up, and his hand lands on top of a wrinkled shirt. He lifts it slowly to his face, inhaling deeply. It smells like sun and dew on the grass, there's some musk and the faint remains of cologne. If Barry always smells like this, Len would happily spend the rest of his life with his face pressed in the crook of Barry's slender neck._ _

__The thought scares him, so he throws the shirt back on the bed and stands up abruptly. Chronos, who has followed him in the room, dips his head on the side, curious. His gaze shifts around._ _

___This place needs help, stat_ he thinks, and goes to work._ _

__***_ _

__"And now, let's toast to the speedy recovery of the Boss!" Jay exclaims, and Mick pinches his thigh from under the table, ignoring his colleague's unmanly yelp and stuffing a bite-sized piece of tortilla in his mouth._ _

__"He's talking about our Captain-" Mick tries to fix Jay's mistake. "He had a, uhm, cold which is finally letting up."_ _

__"Captain Cold," Jay snickers as he munches on the treat. He probably has had way too many of those cocktails._ _

__"You're a gifted man, Martin," Mick interjects, changing topics. "These snacks are delicious. Why haven't you opened a restaurant?"_ _

__Martin rubs the back of his neck, a little self-consciously. "I've been doing things for other people all my life. Teaching means forgetting about your needs and focusing on your students and their own. Now I only cook for myself and the people I care about, which is enough for me. Who knows, maybe in the future..." He trails off and shrugs._ _

__Mick nods. "I think I understand you more than you think," he says, squeezing Martin's arm as the ex-professor smiles at him._ _

__"Oh God," Jay whines as he empties his glass in a gulp. "I knew it! This shit's contagious."_ _

__***_ _

__Barry is bone-deep tired when he finally gets home. It's way past dinner-time, and when he hears the laughter and noise coming from Martin's apartment he smiles sadly. He's happy his friends are having fun, but that only makes him feel more alone. He opens the door and enters his dark apartment, his expression softening when he sees the table set out for him and Cisco's post-it on the glass informing him of the lasagna waiting in the oven. Barry turns the oven on to warm the dish up and moves to his bedroom to get changed._ _

__The room is dark, but the streetlights are already on, so Barry can see that his bed is made, the room smells clean and it looks like someone has taken out all the dirty dishes and glasses he has left around. At first he thinks it must have been Cisco, even if he had told the guy repeatedly that he really didn't need a housekeeper, but then he notices his sweatpants on his pillow, next to his college t-shirt, and he knows he hadn't left them anywhere.  
The person who set them out knows he sleeps in them._ _

__What shocks him the most, though, is that there is a person sitting at his dresser. A person who turns abruptly towards him as he enters the room, eyes wide as if not expecting to get caught. Barry can barely see the outline, but the eyes...the eyes he can't mistake. They are almost glowing in the dark, like ice under the moon, and there is only one person in the world who has eyes like those._ _

__"Patty?" he calls out hoarsely, before his eyes roll backwards in his head and he crumples to the floor._ _

A warm, soft, slightly familiar voice murmuring, _What have I done?_ is the last thing Barry hears before he loses consciousness. 


	4. If I'm Wrong, What's Next?

Martin is laughing out loud at something absurd Jay just said when he hears the doorbell.  
He looks at his watch: it is late, and they are being pretty noisy, so he guesses that it's probably some neighbor coming to complain-and rightfully so.  
He schools his features in a chagrined apologetic expression and then opens the door.

"Barry?!" he exclaims, taking in his friend's appearance.  
Barry is still wearing his lab coat, but it's all wrinkled as if it had been thrown on the floor and then stomped on.  
His eyes are wide and a little out of it, and Barry is almost pulling at his hair.  
_A little exaggerated as a reaction to the noise_ Martin thinks to himself, but dutifully apologizes.

"Hello, Barry, I'm so sorry! I know we're being loud and it's late and you probably just got home—you look terrible by the way—I will tell them-"

Barry lifts a hand to shut him up.  
"Martin, I just- I just want a glass of water."

He sounds tired and beaten, and it has been months since Martin has seen him like this, so his mother hen mode automatically shifts into gear.  
"Of course! Come on in. Guys! Keep it down for a moment, will you?"

***

Jay and Mick are discussing Indiana Jones movies with Cisco. Cisco is a _Lost Ark_ fan himself, Mick loves _Temple of Doom_ because of all the gore and splatter, while Jay considers both movies ancient and defends the benefits of _Crystal Skull_ for breathing new air into the franchise.  
Before Barry came to the door, Martin was on team _Last Crusade_ , because hello? Sean Connery?

The conversation instantly dies as soon as Martin comes in followed by a stricken looking Barry. Jay and Mick stand up immediately, scanning his face to figure out what might have happened and if it will in any way affect their boss. 

Barry doesn't even lift his eyes up until Martin says, "These friends of yours, Mick and Jay, came looking for you, so I invited them here for a drink while we waited for you to come home."

He looks at them, curiously. Their faces do look vaguely familiar.

"Are you sure we know each other?" he asks, and both the more built, muscular one and the leaner, more handsome one nod.

"More than enough," the lean one mutters, and immediately after the bigger one continues with, "Well, it's late, I'm sure we can come back another day to talk."

Barry shrugs as they get on their jackets and…wait, are those _guns_?  
Before he can say anything about that, though, Martin is all over him, fussing, asking if he wants a juice, a coffee, some tea, _anything_ , so Barry stops him again.

"Water is fine, Martin. Listen, something incredible just happened," he starts, and he's so shaken that he doesn't notice the room go silent as the other three occupants turn towards him waiting for whatever he's going to say next.  
"My wife came back from the dead to pay me a visit," he murmurs, so quietly that it would have gone unheard if everyone wasn't already listening in.

Martin smiles and places a hand on his shoulder.  
"That's impossible, Barry, you know that" he says, gently, but Barry turns towards him, eyes wide.

"I know that! Don't you think I know that? I'm a rational person, dammit! I haven't ever felt anything like this, I…It was so real, I couldn't be hallucinating."  
Barry gulps down the whole glass of water, wishing for a moment it was something stronger.

"I like ghost stories," Cisco says, sitting closer to the sofa where Martin and Barry were, ignoring his uncle's glare.  
"Do tell!"

Barry finally realizes that he is not in fact alone with Martin. At first he feels quite embarrassed, but then the need to get this off his chest is stronger, so he nods and continues.  
"She was standing in front of me, back turned. She did look taller and more muscular than I remember, but it might have been the light coming from the window."

He is so focused on the memory that he misses the glance between Mick and Jay. "She started to turn, but then the light hit her eyes, her icy, blue eyes, and I really couldn't take it. I passed out."  
Barry sighs.

"Thank fuck," Jay mutters, and Mick stomps on his foot, making him whine in pain.  
"I mean, thank fuck you're alright and didn't hurt yourself, yeah?"

Barry knows something isn't quite right, both with what he just experienced and with those guys, but he's way too tired and shocked to focus on anything right now.  
He just leans back against the wall and closes his eyes, hoping that maybe if he passes out again he will be able to see Patty once more.

***

Len is still shaking slightly, sitting on Barry's bed.  
The way the guy looked at him, God, Len still feels it in his gut.  
Then he just dropped to the floor and Len could feel the terror from his previous dream come dangerously real, so he had cradled Barry in his arms and laid him on the bed, staying close until he started to wake up before hiding again.

He grabs the picture of the dead wife (Patty, he assumes) from the dresser and stares at it, hating her fiercely.  
How could she be so selfish to die and leave Barry like this? Didn't she think about what her death would do to him? He throws the picture to the floor, then pics his phone and calls Mick.  
"Let's leave. Now. I'll see you downstairs in five minutes." 

It physically pains him to leave this room, as if a part of him felt at home here, but he knows he has already tempted his luck enough for one day. He wanted to know if he wanted to ravish the guy or love him? Well, now he does.  
Somehow, that doesn't really make him feel better.

***

Mick's phone rings and they all jump. He picks up.  
"Oh, hey Bo-Babe," he stutters, mouthing _my wife_ to the group, before turning and replying to what is said to him in hushed tones.

"It was so weird" Barry goes on, eyes still closed.  
"She was wearing a hoodie, so I couldn't see her hair, and then she smiled. I mean, I'm not sure it was an actual smile, it was more like a shadow on the bottom of her face, but-"

Cisco snorts.  
"Maybe she just had a five o'clock beard, Bar!"

Barry glares at him.  
"Don't be stupid, Cisco. Anyway, the most incredible thing was the house, and my room: everything was spotless, organized, clean. Haven't seen the house like this in months. And unless either you or Martin did it, there's no other explanation, is there?"

Martin and Cisco look at each other. They know very well that neither of them cleaned up Barry's house, but the ghost story couldn't possibly be true. Right?

"We're going," Jay says, approaching the group.

Barry looks at them and then snaps his fingers.  
"Of course! You're colleagues from the precinct, aren't you?"

Jay nods, stiffly.  
"Yeah, sure. We've been there from time to time, I guess."

Mick smacks Barry's shoulder on his way out.  
"See ya, kid."

Barry stares at the door way after they have left.  
"Maybe they're from the narcotics," he muses. "Weird people, huh?"

***

Len is sitting in front of the mirror in his room.  
Patty's picture is taped to the glass, smiling obnoxiously at him.  
He looks at Mick and then at Jay, who have just finished relating the whole afternoon to him, including Barry's reaction to their meeting. He goes back to studying his face in the mirror.  
"Maybe he's right, you know," he mutters, turning from left to right, looking over himself with a critical eye.  
"Maybe it's time I get rid of this stupid shadow on my chin."

Mick nods, but Jay looks unsure.  
"Are you sure, Boss?"

Mick dips a brush in the shaving cream.  
"No worries, I'll take care of it."

***

When they get home for dinner, late as usual, everyone just stares.

"What?" Len snaps, as he takes his seat.

"Where's your beard?" Caitlin asks, petulantly and Len throws her a cold glance.

"I see you're here again, Caitlin" he retorts, fakely sweet.  
"It's not like I have to explain my actions to you, but I will do it anyway. The beard made me look unkempt and undignified, and I thought that with me becoming a Mob boss and everything, I'd have to take care of my image a little more from now on. Be more elegant. Satisfied?"  
He fixes the sweater he's wearing elegantly arranged on his shoulders and undoes the first button of his shirt.

All in all, he looks more like a British nobleman than a mobster, but his tight jaw and tilted chin are daring anyone to say anything else, so nobody does.  
Nobody but Lewis, who obviously is not impressed.

"Undignified? Elegant? What the hell are you talking about, Leonard? Have you hit your head?"

Lisa cleared her throat.  
"Lenny, are you feeling okay? Maybe you're running a fever..." she tries to salvage the situation.

"He's not sick, Lisa, don't be stupid" Lewis growls.  
"He's just different. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something has changed."

"But you mean _different_ in a good sense, don't you, Boss?" Jay asks, nervously.  
"You don't mean it like he's suddenly jumped the-ow!"

Everyone turns to look at Jay, who's rubbing his hand as he throws a murderous glare at Mick, who cleans his fork in his napkin with a satisfied smirk.

"Weirdoes" Lewis mutters as he turns on the TV.  
Obviously, it's the familiar face of Malcolm Merlyn that appears on the screen.

"It's not what you wear that makes who you are," the magician is explaining, "But who you are doesn't necessarily show in what you wear, either. The only important place where you can find a person's true essence is the eyes. In the eyes you can see who this person is, and that's something no one can alter or camouflage."

Len groans and hides his face between his crossed arms.

_Please, God, kill me now._

***

Barry is shifting nervously in the waiting room.  
Martin told him that this psychologist is one of the best around, and if anyone could help him with his crisis it's her. Cisco has also been very vocal about how much he admires Felicity Smoake, so Barry feels a little reassured.  
It doesn't mean he's not nervous about first, meeting a psychiatrist and second, explaining everything that's going on in his life.  
Oh God, what if she decides that he really is crazy?

Just as he's about to bolt, a petite blond girl with glasses and an intense, stern expression appears in the doorway.  
"Mr. Sampson?" she calls, and the man stands up to enter the study.  
Before she can close the door, though, Barry stands too.

"Doctor...Felicity, right? Can I call you Felicity? Listen, I really need to talk to you. Something incredible has happened to me, and I'm sorry for barging in this way, but...I need to talk to someone, just five minutes, yeah? I imagine you need to go to lunch, but...I just need long enough for you to diagnose if I'm really losing my mind, or-"

Felicity steps closer, smiles and squeezes Barry's shoulder.  
"Sit down, please. I won't be long, but I need to take care of this man first. Once I'm done, we'll have a chat. Okay?" she pinches his nose playfully.

Barry nods, a little dumbfounded, as she goes back into her office then closes the door.  
He sighs, then turns towards the man sitting across from him.  
"Do you know Doctor Smoake? Is she as good as they say?"

"I'm hungry" the man says, ignoring his question and staring at Barry as if he was an all-you-can-eat buffet.  
"You made me _want_."

Barry swallows, noisily.  
"Is it-because I talked about lunch?" he asks, even if he's quite sure that's not the case.

The man's smile widens into a dangerous grin.  
"I can't stand to look at you," he purrs, licking his lips. "You're made so well...just perfect."  
He stands from his chair and goes to sit right next to Barry on the small couch.

Barry tries to slide away, but the man just comes closer. 

"What a pretty, _pretty_ thigh...and your chest..."  
He runs the tip of his fingers up Barry's pecs, and that's more than Barry can take.

"I'm not a chicken, you know!" he exclaims, pulling back, and the man makes a face.

"Of course not, sweet cheeks, you're way more delicious than a chicken," the man murmurs, and Barry rolls his eyes.

"Listen, man, I'm sure you're troubled and stuff and I should probably just go with it to avoid causing you a trauma or something of sorts, but I'm having a very rough day so I would really appreciate it if you'd leave me alone, please," he mutters, glaring at him.

The man only smirks again, and this time he slides right in Barry's lap.  
"Trust me, doll, I would love to, but I really can't...I need to have you. Let me eat you."

Barry is about to just stand and drop the crazy on his ass when a muscular guy appears from nowhere, grabs the guy from the shirt and pulls him off.

"Seriously, Vandal, is that a nice way to treat your friends?" he scolds him, and the man has at least the decency to look repentant.

"You really shouldn't leave someone like him unattended," Barry complains. "Gay sexual predators are dangerous to others!"

The muscular guy—a doctor, or maybe a nurse. _Raymond Palmer_ it says on his name tag—at first looks annoyed, but then he bursts out laughing.  
"You thought…and he was…Oh my, this is priceless!  
He laughs only harder once Barry's affronted expression turns confused, and even the maniac, Vandal whatever, starts snickering.

"Oh, I'm sorry, man," Raymond says once he has finally calmed down.  
"This is Vandal Savage, and he's not a sexual anything. He thinks he's a cannibal, so if he said something about eating you? He meant it literally. You really are not _that_ attractive to gay guys, sorry for bursting your bubble."  
He winks at him and takes the man away, leaving Barry with his jaw dropped.

At least, now the nerves for his therapy sessions are completely forgotten.

***

When the girls stand up to clear up the table, Lisa goes to get Len's plate, as she always does.  
All of them despise the male chauvinist world of the Mob, but they have to live in it so they all play their parts.

Or at least, they did until today.

"Leave it. I got it, sis," Len says, as he stands as well, bringing his plate to the kitchen.  
Lisa's eyebrows go up as she stares at Mick, but he simply smiles dismissively and also stands with his plate.

"It's time we start helping out around here," he states gruffly, then clears his throat and Jay scrambles up too, following Mick in the kitchen, muttering about these being tasks for women and gaining a smack on the back of the head for his comment.

Lewis narrows his eyes.  
"What the hell is going on here?" he growls, and for once Lisa shares his worries, even if most likely they worry for completely different reasons.

***

When Lewis comes back from his Thai massage (with bonus happy ending, of course) he finds Harrison waiting for him in his living room.

"I know it's late, Lewis, and I'm sorry to barge in this way, but I had to talk to you. Actually, I need to talk to your son."

Lewis blinks. "He's not home, he left after dinner. You can talk to me" he retorts. 

"Last I heard, I'm still the boss, around here."  
Harrison looks at him for an instant, before sitting down.  
"I prefer waiting for him to come back. Thanks anyway."

***

"You are an idiot, Len. A disgusting one."  
His reflection in the rear-view mirror mocks him with his stormy eyes and his mouth turned into a grimace.  
His car is burning through a few red lights, but there's no one around to see it and besides, it's not like he's ever in any real danger.  
Len is a fucking fantastic driver.

Maybe not as fantastic as usual when he's discussing with his own reflection, though.

"You should be ashamed of yourself! You're a freaking homosexual!"  
He clenches his teeth, his breathing knocked out of his lungs. He has never said it out loud.  
"No, I'm not" he mutters to himself. "I don't like men in general, just the one."  
He throws another glance at himself and groans.

"Yeah, okay, maybe one man is enough. There's no rule stipulating how many men you have to be attracted to in order to be considered homosexual, is there?"  
He sighs. 

Things aren't going better, they're going worse, each passing second.  
And shockingly, but not surprisingly, he worries more about Barry and how he is feeling than he does about himself.  
He has never been completely right in the head, after all.

***

Barry is asleep in his bed, and in his head he replays the previous night.  
"Patty...you're back," he mutters, twitching in his bed.  
"You love me still even if I...I never loved you as much as you did..."

He whines, as he remembers how hot those icy pupils were when they stopped on him.  
Patty has never looked at him with such a consuming need, and all of a sudden those eyes are not on Patty's face anymore but on the face of someone else.  
That man in the park, the one who made Barry want for the first time in his young life. His dick comes to life as he remembers every inch of that perfectly sculpted body, those tattoos, those muscles, that chiseled jaw...and the eyes.  
Fuck, those eyes could make Barry do anything.

He wakes up, startled, and realizes his fist is curled around an impressive erection, his boxers already wet with precome.  
He jumps up and dashes to the shower, where he stays under the icy spray until his dick lets out.  
It takes a good forty minutes and, by the time he goes back to bed, he doesn't fall asleep, too horrified by what happened last time he did.

***

Mick and Jay are waiting for him in the parkway when Len gets back.  
They tell him both Harrison and his father are waiting for him in the living room, and they don't seem happy.  
Len steels himself and goes in, putting every effort he can into strutting with a confidence and strength he really doesn't think he possesses right now.

"What are you both doing still up?" 

His father throws him a death glare, but Harrison, always the more educated one, smiles tightly.

"We really need to talk to you, just us men, no women around." 

Len knows perfectly well that Caitlin, Lisa and her friends are probably eavesdropping anyway.

"My daughter has...suspicions about you, Len," Harrison goes on, with a long, calculated stare.  
"And I need to protect my only daughter's happiness, I'm sure you understand that if she's not happy, neither am I, so I just have one question for you."

Len nods, stiffly, and waits to see where this is going.

"Is it a habit?"

Len blinks. He really didn't think they'd figure it out so soon, not when he is just starting to understand and accept it himself.  
"What-I don't think so, no."

Harrison nods to himself.  
"I do prefer a son-in-law that likes women," he admits, and Len's world crumbles on top of him.

"I do like them," he tries to explain. "I don't even know what is happening to me, I just-"

"You don't have to say anything," Harrison interrupts him. "Caitlin found out and called me."

"How did she find out?" Len inquires, surprised.  
If there was one person he didn't think was going to care about him enough to notice such a change in him, it was Caitlin.

Harrison snorts.  
"She says that lately you're not _hot_ anymore," he replies, making air quotes.  
"Says she finally understands why they call you, Captain Cold."

"She went through your stuff, looking for proof of whatever the hell is going on with you," Lewis interjects. "And she found them. You can't deny it."

Len swallows. He is not sure what his father will do to him, or what Harrison will do to him. He will take it like a man, in any case.  
He lifts his chin and stares defiantly at them.  
"If you want to kill me, just do it and move on."

Harrison and Lewis exchange a glance.

"Don't be melodramatic, Len," Lewis replies, rolling his eyes.  
"We don't intend to kill you for this, come on."

Len arches an eyebrow.  
"Like Ra's didn't kill Jonah?"

Harrison sighs.  
"Ah, such a tragedy, that one. Ra's tried everything to fix his son, but to no avail. Jonah was lost, too much of a fag to understand anything else. No treatment could cure his sickness, so they had to put him down. So sad, though. But you're not sick too, are you? Maybe you don't want to stop?"

"I really want to, believe me, but no, I can't" Len snaps.  
"I can't resist it."

Lewis shrugs.  
"And to say I really don't think it's anything special", he mutters, and Len narrows his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"The one you lost your mind for. Really nothing special, Leonard."

Len's eyes widen. They even know who Barry is? He's in danger then! He has to find a way to warn him; if they killed him, Len wouldn't know what to do with his life.

"Please, no violence. Please, it's-it's my problem, okay? I'll pay the price. Any price."  
He knows he's begging, but he can't help it. He has to protect Barry.

"Oh no, we'd never do that" Harrison reassures him. "And despite what your father thinks, I think she's a ten."

Len is confused, but then Harrison pulls out Patty's photo, the one he stole from Barry's apartment.

"I always liked redheads," Lewis insists petulantly.

A weight lifts from Len's shoulders, as he relaxes against the back of the couch and finally smiles.  
"I'm more for brunettes myself. The blonde is a phase."

Once they clarified that they expect him to be more discreet, but they really don't care how many women he bangs as long as his reputation and status are intact, they move on and start talking about business.  
Len is so relieved by how things turn out that he doesn't really bother to listen.  
He intends to do things his way once he's the Boss, anyway.

***

Len stares at the boats coming in and out of the harbor.  
The hotel he's getting married at has a beautiful terrace overlooking the sea, and for a moment he gets lost admiring the twinkle of the sun on the water.  
His idyllic musings are interrupted by Caitlin, who's suddenly at his side.  
"This view is breath-taking, isn't it?" she says, straight in his ear, purring, while pressing her breasts against his arm.

Len almost jumps in surprise.  
"It is beautiful, yes."

"Are you happy to marry me?" she urges, and Len huffs, stepping back.

"Cornering me won't get you what you want, Caitlin. I don't respond well to forcing, remember that."

Luckily, before Caitlin can try a different approach, the waiter comes looking for them to talk about the menu.  
Len doesn't know how much longer will he be able to stall.


	5. Everything I'm Feeling Now I Question

It has taken Barry forever to fall asleep.  
In fact, it has taken him forever even to _decide to go to bed_ after staring at it as if it had personally offended him.  
He has a reason for that, though: he has spent almost all day with his head in the clouds, because no matter how hard he had tried not to think about the man from the park, he couldn't seem to focus on anything else.

It was either memories of that meeting (how he stared, what he looked like, etc) or memories of his very vivid, very hot dream from the previous night.  
In the end, though, he has to go to bed or he won't be of any utility to the precinct tomorrow and he knows they need him.  
In fact, he's so tired that he drops dead asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow (which has a new, vaguely familiar smell that makes him feel safe and protected) and that's probably why he doesn't hear the front door opening.  
By the time he finally wakes up and realizes he's not alone, it's too late: there's a gun on him.

"Don't even think about moving, sweet cheeks," a hissing voice orders from a dark corner of his room, before the man with the gun turns on the bedside lamp.

Barry blinks at the sudden light, then his eyes adjust and he takes in the appearance of the two men in his room.  
One of them, sitting on a chair, is a little more than a kid, but Barry can tell he's the brains of the operation.  
He has shaggy hair, dark, piercing eyes and glasses.  
He also seems to be wearing some sort of hearing aid.  
He doesn't look mean, or dangerous, not really. He just looks sad, angry and lost.

The other one though, the one who's pointing the gun at him, it's a different story. Barry sees immediately that the guy is crazy. His irises, almost completely eaten by his swollen pupils, tell a whole story of abusing substances.  
He looks older than Barry, probably older than the man from the park, too (and isn't this the perfectly right moment to think about him _again_ , Barry tells himself. He's also wearing a wrinkled tux and his dirty blond hair is all spiky, with the tips painted in pink.

Barry lifts his arms in a non-threatening gesture.  
"I'm not, see? Not doing anything. Who are you? What do you want?"

The older man looks taken aback by his question.  
"You don't remember me?" he asks, annoyed.

Barry blinks again and studies his face.  
"Not really, no."

"What about me?" the kid inquires then, narrowing his eyes, but Barry just shakes his head.

They both look pissed.  
"You got us booked five years in Iron Heights!" the older man roars.

"Five years among criminals," the kid echoes.  
"And you can imagine what they do to guys like me in prison, can't you?"

Barry cringes a bit, getting the idea, but he knows he's good at his job. If they got caught, they deserved their stint between bars and he can't (and won't) apologize or be intimidated.  
He lifts his chin, defiantly.  
"You should have covered your tracks better," he retorts, and the man cocks his gun.

"And you should have locked your door better, because now our faces will be the last thing you see."

Barry throws a glance at the kid, knowing that he could stop the crazy one, but the kid looks livid and cocks his gun too, standing and moving next to the older man.

"Any last words, Allen?"

***

Len knows he shouldn't be here.  
He really, _really_ shouldn't, especially after the very close call he had tonight.  
But exactly because of it, he needs to check on Barry, see if he's okay, if his father and Harrison really bought the Patty cover or if they were just playing with him before presenting him with pieces of Barry in a body bag. 

Jay and Mick are really not excited about the idea of visiting the cop (no matter his actual role, the guy works at the precinct, so by proxy he is a cop) so Len tries to make all the possible excuses, each of them promptly shut down by his bodyguards that seem to have an endless supply of ideas on how to make sure Barry is fine without having to actually break into his apartment.  
In the end, Len just snaps.  
“Fine, I need to touch him, okay? Is this what you wanted me to say? Well, here you have it. I want to touch him, and I have to go upstairs to do it. Just one caress and I will come back. Five minutes tops.”  
He flies up the stairs, as silent as he can possibly be, and his heart freezes in his chest when he gets to the hallway and sees Barry's door open.  
A quick exam shows that the lock has been picked.  
Len can see his life flash before his eyes, and asks a God he has never believed in to protect Barry.

Still silently (now more than ever) he slides in the apartment, and starts breathing again when he hears Barry's voice (alert, alive) coming from his bedroom.  
His relief is short-lived, though, when he actually listen to the words he's saying.

"Come on, guys, just drop those guns. You don't think you can kill a forensic police officer in his own house and get away with it, do you? That would be just stupid."

_Guns?!_

"Shut your face, rat. You deserve to suffer and pay for what I had to live through during the last five years."

"Admit you're terrified, admit it! You're about to shit your pants in fear and I'm gonna love every second of it."

Len knows both voices, even if he can't actually place them, and only the fear of the men's reaction if he barges in the room stops him from doing just that.  
Instead, he places the groceries he has brought to fill up Barry's fridge (he had noticed it was sadly empty the previous time he came by, and even if Martin is feeding him, the guy can't survive on neighborliness alone) grabs two pans and then approaches the bedroom door.

The men's backs are turned as they keep insulting and verbally abusing Barry and, really? Len has heard enough.  
With a perfect, deadly swing he smacks their heads with the pans and watches as they go down without a sound.

Barry's eyes are wide in fear and...awe? As he looks at Len, they widen further in recognition.

Len feels his heart swell. Barry remembers him.  
"I thought maybe I should introduce myself," he says, offering his hand to Barry. "Leonard Snart. You can call me Len."

***

Len is pacing in the living room, the criminals already tied up to a chair and slowly coming to.  
When Barry comes in from the kitchen, he looks up, worried.  
"So?"

Barry smiles, tiredly.  
"Chronos is fine, they just drugged him."

"I told you to kill it, dumbass," the man hisses, and the kid shrugs.

"It was a small dog, James. I do have a heart, you know."

Barry narrows his eyes.  
"But killing me was perfectly fine, wasn't it?"

The kid sighs.  
"No, Allen, we didn't mean to kill you for real. We just wanted to scare you."

The other man looks affronted.  
"You said I could kill him, Hartley!"

The kid rolls his eyes.  
"Yeah, well. I lied. Your gun was filled with blanks. You were about to get out and I didn't want that to happen. I arranged this so that you would get sent back to jail."

"Wow, I have to say that _is_ a smart plan," the man says, impressed.

"Well, you chose the wrong mark, anyway. I don't scare that easily," Barry snaps, and Len sighs.

"Well said, Barry," he almost purrs, and at first Barry sort of blushes, then he turns his back on Len muttering his thanks before calling the precinct.

"This is Barry Allen, calling to report- Oh, hi, Joe."  
He winces.  
"I wanted to report a breaking and entering-no, I'm fine, it was just- Send a car, Joe, I'll explain tomorrow. No, really, I don't need you to come over."  
He throws a glance at Len that warms him up from head to toe.  
"I'm not alone. Yeah, yeah, tomorrow. Night."  
He hangs up, then takes a deep breath and turns towards Len.  
"Okay, uhm. So. Who are you?"

Len smirks and moves closer to Barry.  
"I already told you my name. Anything else doesn't matter," he drawls, his smirk growing wider when he sees Barry's gaze drop to his lips.

Barry swallows, audibly.  
"Why-why are you in my apartment?"

Len knows he really should think it over, but it just comes tumbling out.  
"Because I'm in love with you."

"Wait, _what_?!" James exclaims, then he starts laughing.  
A cold, deadly glare from Len is enough to stop him, though.

Barry clenches his teeth.  
"What the hell are you talking about, man? I don't even know you! What, are you trying to make fun of me because I-"  
He stops abruptly when he realizes the criminals are listening in, and he grabs Len's arm and pulls him towards the kitchen.  
"What the hell?" he repeats in a whisper.

Len shrugs.  
"I really can't explain it, Barry. I don't know what's happening to me. From the first time I saw you, I was a goner. I'm losing my mind. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Especially not with men."

Barry is blushing again; it looks delicious on his skin, and Len wants to lick the red shade and see how far the blush goes. He clenches his fists until his nails are sinking in his palms and recovers a semblance of control.

"I mean, you're not very good looking either..." he mutters, jokingly, and Barry takes the bait, protesting, until Len puts a hand on his arm.  
"...and still, I cannot get you out of my head.." 

"Love at first sight," the kid, Hartley, murmurs from behind them, and Len really can't say he's wrong.

"Not the weirdest thing I've ever heard," Barry says, softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Len feels hope spreading in his chest. Maybe..?  
"Barry, you mean..."

"Well, well, Allen, I didn't peg you for one of _those_ ," James spits out.

Barry freezes and slowly turns towards him.  
"Excuse me...?"

James smirks.  
"You know what I mean. Perverts who like it up the ass. That's you, right? I can tell it's definitely not _him_."

Barry narrows his eyes and clenches his fists, looking like he has just been sucker punched.

Len is about to smack that sick grin from James' face, but turns out he doesn't need to. Hartley elbows James (as hard as he can considering he's tied up) and mutters, "Shut the fuck up, you idiot."

James throws him an annoyed glance.  
"Trust me, I know you're one of those too, little punk, but you're still a kid, you'll learn. Or someone will teach you," he adds, grinning again.

Hartley looks like he's about to throw up, and Len shares the feeling.  
Suddenly, Barry stomps on the floor, making them all jump.

"You're going away for a very, very long time," he growls, his eyes throwing daggers at James.  
"You'll most likely never come back out."

"Not if I have anything to say about it, he won't," Hartley mutters, and Barry's gaze softens a bit, but then the kid looks at him with something akin to empathy.  
"After all, I know what it means to be bullied because of your sexual orientation."

Barry's face turns red.  
"You-you're going back to jail too!" he exclaims, bordering on the hysterical.  
"I'm not a freaking homosexual, okay? Stop assuming that! All of you! Men _disgust_ me!"  
He doesn't even realize he's shouting until he hears his own voice echoing in the still of the night.

Hartley and James are staring at him, and so is Len.  
In his eyes, mixed with nerves and the usual coolness, there's hurt.  
Barry knows he's probably out of line, but dammit, this man can't just barge in his apartment, declare undying love in front of a couple of criminals and then expect-what? That Barry would swoon and run into his arms?  
He's straight as an arrow, he is married, for fuck's sake!

...was married. 

Anyway, he can't stand the sadness in those eyes, so he swallows, hard, then takes a deep breath.  
"Len, I-"

"Boss! We heard shouting!"

Both Mick and Jay enter the room running, guns at the ready, interrupting Barry, and he's even relieved for a moment, considering he really didn't know how he was going to finish the sentence.

Len sighs, resigned.  
"Yeah, by all means, do come in, guys.”

Barry's eyes go wide.  
"I remember you two now! You were in the park, with him! You're not from the precinct at all, are you?"

Jay fidgets and Mick looks uncomfortable, so Len takes pity on them, mostly because he has to focus on something that is not his broken heart bleeding.

"What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to wait downstairs?"

Mick puts away his gun.  
"You did, Boss, but you also said _one caress and I'll come right back_ and it's been like half an hour...we were worried something happened to you."

Len's cheeks burn and he coughs to hide the embarrassment when Barry's jaw drops.  
"The dog, I…I wanted to see the dog," he grumbles, looking anywhere but at Barry. As if he heard him, Chronos wanders in the living room, woozily, and Len turns his full attention to the fur-ball, cradling him in his arms. Chronos obviously chooses that exact moment to throw up, all over Len's shoes.

Mick and Jay are way too shocked to laugh.  
“See? The dog obviously needed me” Len points out, setting Chronos back to the floor and doing his best to ignore the smell coming from his feet.

Barry, however, doesn't buy the lie for one second.  
"Ah, so they know, too?!"

Len shrugs.  
"I had to talk to someone, Barry. I thought I was going crazy."

Jay nods fervently.  
"It's true! He's, like, _obsessed_ with you. It's painful to watch and we don't know what else to do to hide it."

Mick shakes his head. He looks more worried for his boss than for what people will say, but Barry by now is so pissed that all he sees is red.

"Oh, you're doing a bang up job at that!" he snaps.  
"Look around, there's six people in this room and we all know. Keep at it and maybe in a week the whole town will know, too!"

Mick opens his mouth to reply, but right then Martin and Cisco, in their pajamas, storm into the living room.  
"Barry, is everything okay?" Martin asks, panting, as he holds his blue silk robe closed across his chest. Cisco is wearing emerald green boxers and a Green Lantern t-shirt, and promptly trips on Chronos and crumbles to the floor, ending up right in front of Len's goons, who help him up.

"We heard noise and saw the door was open..."

Len groans, hiding his face between his hands.

"Hey guys!" Cisco greets Mick and Jay with a one-armed hug.

"Eight people" Barry mutters to himself, before he slams his fist on the coffee table and glares at them all.  
"That's enough! I was sleeping. These two _idiots_ barged in to scare me, this _psycho_ came right after claiming he's _in love with me_ and these other two barged in to…I don't even want to talk about them. You two meddling fools were just the icing on the cake."

He shakes with rage.  
"Everybody _out_! Just-leave me the fuck _alone_! I want this goddamned nightmare to end and I want it to end _now_."

He is met with a stunned silence, and he knows he will have to apologize to Martin and Cisco tomorrow, but right now he doesn't care.  
As if on cue, the intercom rings.  
_Must be the guys from the precinct_ Barry thinks. If at least one thing goes his way, maybe Joe won't be among them and there will be one less person who will see Barry lose his dignity tonight.

***

James is still laughing hysterically as they put him in the car.  
"The CSI in love!" he exclaims, when he manages to calm down a bit as he dries up tears from the corners of his eyes.  
"Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!"

Hartley, on the other hand, looks even younger with his hands cuffed behind his back.  
His expression is sad and a little wistful as he looks at Barry, who's watching from his balcony like a hawk to make sure neither of them makes a break for it.  
Under the streetlights, Barry sees how thin Hartley is and how frayed his clothes are, and he feels a pang of regret.  
The kid wanted to protect himself and others from James, and he has gone through a lot, that much is clear.  
He sighs to himself, already knowing that tomorrow morning he will go bail the kid out.  
He wants to give him a chance to explain the whole story at least, even if he expects it not to be that easy, not after his actions tonight.  
But really, who could blame or judge Barry after everything that has just happened?

He steels himself for the conversation he's about to have with Len, but once he gets back inside the house, he finds it empty. Len and his goons have left, and so have Martin and Cisco.  
He's alone, just like he wanted.  
Barry knows he should feel relieved, but he feels cold and lost instead.

***

"Enough" Len drawls, as he looks up at Barry's window where the light just went off.  
"That's enough. I made a fool out of myself more than I'm comfortable with. I'm done with Barry Allen, he's out of my life."  
He clenches his fists and walks away, shoulders hunched.

"Hell yeah!" Jay rejoices. "He's a man again!"

"While you never stopped being an asshole," Mick retorts, smacking Jay's head before he runs after Len.

***

"Allen! You're on time today, I'm impressed," Singh greets him.

Barry stops himself from rolling his eyes at the last second and goes straight to his office, where he finds Joe waiting for him.

"Okay, Barry, are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Barry sighs.  
"Joe, listen, this is really not a good time. I'm going through a rough patch, and-"

Joe lifts a hand.  
"Say no more. Iris just came back from France and wanted to see you. I guess tomorrow is as good as any other day, right? You guys could go to lunch together."

Barry bites his lower lip, torn.  
He has always liked Iris, and there was a time he even thought she could be the love of his life.  
Then she started dating Eddie, Joe's partner, and Barry met Patty, so...the timing was never right.  
Now, though, they're both free. And Joe has never hidden how much he would have liked for them to get together someday. Who knows, maybe it's a sign.

He relents.  
"Fine. Lunch it is."

***

"Seriously, Boss, this is starting to get alarming," Mick says, concern plain to see on his face.  
The three of them are supposed to be relaxing on the terrace, but Len is curled against the wall, looking miserable.

"It's only been two days since you saw him last, Boss, you can't really be feeling the withdrawal already!" Jay points out and Len groans.  
"You won't survive after the wedding."

Len narrowed his eyes.  
"I said that I don't want to hear about the wedding. Ever." 

Jay blinks.  
"Boss...you do realize that it's tomorrow, right?"

Mick glares at him.  
"Which means that _today_ we can ignore it, _right_?"

Jay shrugs. He really doesn't understand what's going on. He's confused, put out and has no idea how all this mess can sort itself out.  
He's also hurt, deeply, because the only thing he has ever wanted is walking towards them, swaying her narrow hips and carrying a golden vase, presumably a wedding gift she wants to show Len.  
Jay looks away, jaw clenched.  
It's so unfair. He would give everything he has and everything he cares about in a heartbeat to be with Caitlin even for a second, and Len, who is going to have her for keeps, is instead pining and suffering and wasting away over some punk who doesn't love him like- _oh_.

Suddenly, everything makes sense, and Jay turns towards Len to tell him he finally knows, he gets it and he's sorry he has acted like a total prick, but when he tunes back into the moment he realizes Len is fighting with Caitlin.

"Is this all you care about, Caitlin? The gifts, the banquet, the dress...don't you want anything else from your life? From _my_ life?"  
He huffs and turns his back on her.  
"What future do we have? We have absolutely nothing in common, and we are completely useless to each other. I'm about to shoot myself and you're here, babbling away about the reception and the seat charts. Are you happy? Good for you." 

Caitlin opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, unable to reply, which is something very unusual for her.  
She takes a step towards Len, expression murderous, and Mick moves to stop her, but it's Jay who actually grabs her arm and shakes his head.  
She must see something on Jay's face because she frowns, but nods curtly and stomps away.

From her deckchair, Lisa has seen the whole exchange, and has decided that it's time she gets in on the action.  
"Lenny? I gotta talk to you, let's go to my room."

***

"So, what's her name?" she asks, straight to the point as usual.

Len, as expected, blinks, feigning surprise.  
"Whose?"

Lisa rolls her eyes, annoyed.  
"The girl who has you all wrapped around her little finger while Caitlin is hung out to dry."  
She grins.  
"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad there's another one. I mean, you know I can't stand little Miss Icicle there, but still-"

"Lisa, what are you on about? There is no other girl!"  
Len sighs, sitting on the bed in front of his sister, his whole body slumping as if the air was being let out of a balloon.  
"If only things were that simple, sis."

Lisa arches an eyebrow.  
"Then what's the matter? Come on, you know you can tell me anything."

Len chuckles darkly.  
"Oh, not this."

Lisa narrows her eyes.  
"Are you serious, right now? After everything we've been through? After our past...you still think I won't get you? Who better than me, Lenny? That pretty airhead or that gorilla who follows you around?"

"You won't like what I have to say, Lisa. It might hurt you or change the way you see me-"

"Oh, please, Lenny, don't be a drama queen," Lisa interrupts him.  
"I'm a big girl. I'm strong and I can definitely handle anything you dish. So, bring it on."

Len is reminded of Barry's words from a couple of nights prior.

 _Look around, there's eight people in this room and we all know. Keep at it and maybe in a week the whole town will know, too_.

He can't imagine how Lisa will feel if she finds out from anyone who's not him, so he braces himself.  
"Fine, I'll tell you. I'm in love with a man."

Lisa's jaw drops and her eyes widen.  
"What?"

Len cringes, but nods.  
"I think I'm gay," he adds. "I'm not sure, because really, the only one I want is him, but...yeah."

Lisa covers her mouth, eyes welling up with tears and chest heaving.  
"You...you...how _could_ you?! We are _Catholics_! We go to _church_! What will God say? What will our _father_ say? You're a sinner, Lenny, you'll go to hell and I-I don't have a brother anymore, you're-you're an _abomination_!"

Len clenches his jaw, a knot forming in his throat.  
This is exactly what he was afraid of, and his whole world is collapsing.  
"Listen, Lees, please, I just-"

Then all of a sudden, as he tries to keep it together, she snorts and breaks into laughter.  
"Oh, my, I tried to keep a straight face, but I really can't. Oh, this is _priceless_!" She laughs and laughs and laughs, heaving harder than when she was pretending to, and only when she's starting to wheeze does she manage to calm down. 

"I'm sorry, Lenny, but you should have seen your _face_! Besides, you totally deserved to squirm for waiting this long to tell me."

Len blinks, confused, and she huffs.  
"I already knew, obviously," she explains.  
"Did you really think you could hide something this big from me? I know you, Lenny. Plus, I had you followed."  
Her smile turns predatory.  
"What's the name of that cutie who lives next door to your sweetie pie?"

"C-Cisco?" Len stutters, still in shock, and Lisa whistles.

"He's mighty fine. You gotta introduce us!"

Len falls back on the bed.  
"I can't believe you," he mutters.  
"You scared the crap out of me."

Lisa punches his shoulder playfully.  
"That's because you're a moron. I love you no matter what, you should know that by now. Besides, I hate Caitlin. And that CSI dude is _delicious_."  
She winks at him, and Len sighs.

"Yeah, I know. But he doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

"And since when did something like that stop you?"

Len looks at her, surprised.  
She's right, he knows she is, but for some reason Len didn't even contemplate actually trying to win him over. Somehow he felt like they were meant to be, so he expected everything to happen naturally.  
Maybe he really should start it all over again, try to get Barry to know him, show him Len is not as insane as he's probably thought until now. Len has never been good at taking things slowly, but maybe, for Barry, it would be worth to try.

"You're definitely right, sis," He stands up and squeezes her shoulder in a silent thank you. “Maybe I could try...one more time.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles at him.  
"Of course I am, doofus. And of course you should."

***

When they arrive under Barry's house they are just in time to see him opening the door for a stunning woman with dark skin and big brown eyes, who smiles sweetly at him before she follows him to his car.  
Barry looks nervous (he's wearing a suit, even, and he keeps pulling at his tie), but he also looks happier than Len has ever seen him.  
It hurts to see that expression on his face knowing that someone else put it there.

"I'm sure she's just a friend," Jay tries to reassure him, but Len ignores him.

"Follow him," he orders Mick, who looks doubtful.

"What do you intend to do, Boss? Remember he works with the police...we need to tread very carefully."

"Maybe you could just pay him back and cheat too," Jay suggests, looking hopeful, and Len glares at him.

"We're not even a couple yet, imbecile," he growls.  
He doesn't add that he couldn't even if he wanted to. He only wants Barry.  
In the end, he just narrows his eyes.

"I said, _follow him_."


	6. How Do I Get There From Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it turned out to be too long...so you get an extra one with the epilogue XD
> 
> Also: there is sex in this chapter. As explicit as I could bring myself to write it. Consider yourself warned.

Barry and the mysterious pretty girl apparently are off to lunch, because they stop at an exclusive beach restaurant. 

Len clenches his jaw and marches resolutely inside as if he owned the place. Who knows, maybe he does?  
A waiter approaches them, asking if they came for lunch, but Len doesn't even bother to reply.  
His eyes zero in on Barry, who's sitting on the terrace, and is currently _holding the girl's hand_.  
If this were a cartoon, there would probably be smoke coming out of Len's ears.

He distantly hears Mick and Jay rebuffing the waiter ( _this is about **passion** , not **lunch** , you idiot! Step aside!_) while he crosses the terrace to get to where Barry and the little _minx_ look like they're about to start canoodling.

***

Iris is asking about his last project (it has been way too long since they last spoke), and as Barry looks up from his plate to reply, he sees him.

_Len._

The by now familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, his mouth running dry, his heartbeat rate increasing instantly only serve to piss him off.  
Why can't this man leave him alone? Why does he have to keep appearing every time Barry is starting to feel better?  
He narrows his eyes and pointedly ignores Len as he replies to Iris, trying to keep up the cheerful attitude even as Len and Mick sit right behind him.  
He chokes on an olive when Iris peers curiously at Len and murmurs, "I think I know that guy. Isn't he a member of the mob?"

This is gonna be a very, _very_ long lunch.

***

Len is straining to hear the conversation, and the way Barry sounds, so young, carefree and happy while talking to the girl – Iris, apparently the daughter of Barry's friend, Joe – hits him like a punch in the stomach.  
He has never seen Barry this way. Ever.  
It makes him think of how he must have been when his wife was alive, when his life was normal and on track instead of lost and confused as it is now.

The girl giggles and takes Barry's hand again, and suddenly there's a white rage exploding inside of Len's chest.  
He just knows, without a doubt, that Barry has never acted like this with his wife.  
No reason why, but he can feel it.  
He is filled with tension, the jealousy, the hurt and betrayal and he can't stand it.  
He slams his fist on the table, making both his goons jump, then he stands abruptly.

"I need to go to the bathroom," he mutters, storming away.

Jay and Mick exchange a confused glance, and their expressions grow even more puzzled when Barry excuses himself and goes as well.

***

 

"Bastard," Len growls as he stomps down the stairs.  
"Cheater, traitor, _bastard_. Wouldn't know a good thing if it kicked him in the face."  
If he had looked into the mirror as he passed by, he would have probably noticed his eyes gleaming with a light that wasn't there before.  
But he's too mad to pay attention to something like this.

Without even thinking, he goes straight into the women's bathroom.

***

"I will punch you in the face, you meddling, criminal, damn-come back here!"  
Barry is trying to keep his voice down as he scrambles to catch up with Len.  
He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the tails of his jacket disappear in the women's bathroom, though, unsure.  
He really shouldn't go in there.  
But his rage is stronger than his civic sense, and he marches in the bathroom with as much dignity as he can.  
Luckily, the bathroom is empty.  
There is only one stall with a closed door, and Barry knocks on it.

"Go away," Len's snappy, muffled voice from inside demands.

"Like hell! Come out of there, you're in the women's bathroom!"  
Len huffs.  
"So are you."

Barry blushes.  
"What-I was just following you!"  
He takes a deep breath to calm down before he continues.  
"You really have to stop doing this stuff and leave me alone, okay? You made me look stupid in front of Iris!"

Len lets out a bitter chuckle.  
"Oh, I'm so sorry, your majesty, for ruining your date with that princess," he hisses.

Barry is about to say something very nasty to him, but right then a slender, quite beautiful woman enters the bathroom, wearing a yellow, flowery dress and a pair of high-heeled white sandals.  
She sees Barry there and narrows her eyes.

"That girl is a _skank_ , Barry, that's what she is! What else could she be, hitting on you that blatantly after what you've gone through so recently? And how can you let her? Don't you think of me?"  
Len's voice cracks, and something in what he says and how he says it sounds very familiar to Barry, even if he can't place it.  
It feels like it's not the first time they've had this argument, which is pretty ridiculous.

"It's my wife in there," he whispers to the woman, who has by now crossed her arms on her chest and is listening to their exchange with an interested expression.

"She has a very masculine voice."

"Who are you talking to?" Len roars, and Barry flinches.

"There's a woman here that-"

"Is she another skank?" Len asks petulantly, and instead of getting mad, the woman snorts.

"I-You can't talk like that to people!" Barry exclaims, blushing further in embarrassment.  
"Not to this lady and especially not to me!"

For a moment, Len is quiet and Barry thinks they might be done with the worst of it, but then his voice carries out, sounding dejected and tired.  
"I thought you didn't care about other women."

Barry swallows.  
Other meaning aside from Patty, he assumes.  
"Well, you were wrong" he replies, drily.  
"And besides, it's none of your business, is it?"

"Of course it's her business" the woman chimes in.  
"She's your wife, isn't she? She has the right to worry, and she has the right to complain. A relationship isn't made only of chemistry, sexual attraction and the high of falling in love, you know? A relationship is commitment, compromise. It's meeting half way." 

"Thank you, ma'am!" Len exclaims.  
"A relationship is not only me buying your groceries, cleaning up your place, washing your dishes and _saving your life_."

The woman nods fervently.  
"You really should listen to what she has to say, you know. If you lose her because you're just being a stubborn ass, you might regret it for the rest of your life," she states, before turning and leaving the bathroom.

Barry sighs, and knocks on the door again.  
"Len, come on. Enough."

The door swings open, and Barry is faced with Len's reddened, swollen eyes. His face tells Barry that Len is as confused as he is by their exchange.

"Not a single word, Barry. I don't want to hear it."

Len hightails it out of the bathroom, leaving Barry alone, staring at the open door and trying to make sense of what just happened.  
After a moment, however, he snaps back into action and runs out on the terrace, just in time to see Len and his friends leave the parking lot.  
He grabs his phone and writes down the plates of their car.

"Iris, what was that you were saying about the mob?"

*** 

"Barry, you can't go on like this."  
Martin sits next to him and squeezes his shoulder.  
When he had let himself into the apartment, he had found Barry at his kitchen table, with Patty's photo in front of him and his head hidden in his arms.

Cisco nods at his uncle's words as he opens the fridge and finds it, again, empty.  
A look around the kitchen shows both men that Barry is back to his untidy, depressed self: plates lying around, half-eaten pizza left to rot, dirty clothes on the floor.

"You need to get someone to buy groceries for you," Martin points out. "Cook, maybe tidy up a bit and do laundry."

Barry flinches at those words. They remind him a bit too much of what Len said at the restaurant.

"I hope I'm not crossing any boundaries here, but...that guy, from the other night. The guy who apprehended the criminals?"

Barry narrows his eyes.  
"What about him?"

His voice is sending out a warning, but Martin is not impressed.  
"If he really does love you, then maybe you should just..." he tries, waving his hand in the air dismissively.

Barry clenches his jaw, his expression murderous.  
Martin stares back at him for a long moment, and in the end he just sighs.

"Very well, then. I will mind my own business, if that's what you want. You know where to find me if you need me."  
He squeezes Barry's shoulder one last time and just like that, both he and Cisco are gone.

Barry picks up Patty's framed picture and looks at it closely until his vision goes blurry.  
"What should I do?" he murmurs, as his eyes fill with tears.  
"I'm lost without you, Patty. I'm lost without him."  
He bumps his forehead against the table.  
"I don't understand, I- I've never even spared a glance at another man before I met him. Never! I only had eyes for you! But now..."

He swallows, hard, as he looks at Patty's eyes.  
Barry has always thought that his wife's eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen, but now, alone in his kitchen, he has to admit it: Patty's eyes have nothing on Len's.  
Yes, the color is quite similar—surprisingly, considering it is a pretty unusual tone of grey-blue—but Len's have a depth, an intensity, a fire burning in his that take Barry's breath away.  
Patty has never made him feel like this.  
Neither has Iris, for all that matters.

_If he really does love you, then maybe you should just..._

He slams his fist down and makes his decision.  
He has to stop running from what he feels, running from Len.  
He grabs his phone and punches in a very well-known number.

"Joe? I need you to run a plate for me. It's urgent."

***

The police sirens slash through the silence, and everyone at the house start screaming and running around like headless chickens.

"How the fuck did they find us?"  
Lewis is roaring, as his goons, John and Mark, cock their guns.

Harrison is also there, incidentally, with his own men, Hunter and Eobard, who are also armed and ready.

Mick and Jay step in front of Len, to shield him, as the girls are quickly guided back into the house.

"I demand to know what's going on!" Caitlin's shrill voice makes Len flinch.

Then he looks outside the window and sees just two cops in the garden: Barry is with them, and is signing at them to step back.  
He's walking through the garden and towards the terrace, alone.  
Len suddenly feels light-headed.

"Everybody, calm down" he drawls.  
"Lower the weapons. It's just one man coming to our door, and when he gets here, I want you to send him to my office. I'll talk to him."

Caitlin arches an eyebrow.  
"Are you serious?"

Len smirks and turns towards Lewis and Harrison.  
"If I want to be the boss, I need to have balls, isn't that what you said, _father_?"

Harrison looks fairly impressed.  
"Wow, I admire your cold blood, Leonard."

Lisa snorts.  
"He knows a great deal about cops, I'd let him take care of this one."

Lewis nods, flabbergasted, and Len leaves, going straight to his office, trying to get his heart to calm down a bit.  
They need to talk, and why else would Barry be here if not to finally address the elephant in the room?  
He had come to Len's turf, for the first time.  
It must mean something.

***

By the time he reaches the terrace Barry is met with air so thick with tension that he regrets not having a knife to carve his way through it.  
There are a couple of middle-aged men, a truckload of women and six armed goons.  
He recognizes Mick and Jay, who nod at him in acknowledgement, and he's glad they're here or he would think he got the wrong house.  
He clears his throat.

"Did I...Did I come at a bad time?"

One of the girls chuckles and, now that he looks at her, he recognizes her as the woman from the restaurant's bathroom.  
"Well, the time _could_ be better" she replies, cheerfully "my brother is getting _married tomorrow_ , you know. Cutting it a little bit too close, here."  
She throws him a glance full of meaning, and Barry swallows nervously before straightening up.

"Does Leonard Snart live here?" he asks, trying to keep his voice as even and business-like as he can.  
He realizes that he's walking on very thin ice and a wrong move might mean the end of both Len and him.

"Who is asking?" Lewis interjects, standing up.

"Did something happen, officer?" Harrison echoes.

Barry stands even straighter.  
"My name is Barry Allen, forensic scientist. And no, I just need to speak with him. Nothing happened."

"Yet," Lisa mutters.

Mick glares at her, then steps forward.  
"Come with me, I'll take you to him."

***

Mick stops in front of a closed door. 

"He's in there." 

Barry nods his thanks and puts his hand on the knob, but before he can turn it Mick is grabbing his arm.

"That's my Boss in there. If you hurt him in any way, I will find you. Don't you doubt it."

Barry knows he should probably feel scared, but instead he feels relieved.  
He pats Mick's hand.  
"I'm glad he has someone like you who cares about him," he says, honestly.

Mick looks surprised, but ultimately nods and takes a step back.  
"Better not keep him waiting."

Barry takes a deep breath and opens the door.

_Here goes nothing._

***

It feels like something coming full circle when Len sees Barry enter the room.

He remembers seeing him the first time wearing this exact same wrinkled jacket and the exact same jeans.  
Len isn't sure if Barry did it on purpose or if it's just a coincidence, but it warms him right to the core anyway.  
It was right after lunch that day, too—2 pm to be exact—and when he had left his house he hadn't known what destiny had waiting for him on his usual jogging trail.

Barry closes the door behind him, his hand shaking, but he still turns the lock.  
When he looks up at Len, there's fear and doubt in his eyes, but also determination and something else Len doesn't dare name.  
Len is glad he decided to keep his sunglasses on: it's the only leverage he has right now, because if he wasn't wearing them, Barry would probably see the same emotions reflected in Len's eyes.

They stare at each other for a long moment, perfectly still, from the opposite sides of the room.

"Hi," Len murmurs, and Barry clenches his fists, back stiff, taking a couple of hesitant steps towards Len.

"Hi."  
He stops next to the coffee table, grabbing the edge so hard his knuckles go white.  
"I'm a serious, rational guy," Barry starts, voice wavering a bit.

Len moves closer.  
"I know you are."

His drawl is hypnotic and Barry shakes his head slightly to keep on track with what he is trying to say.  
He clears his throat.  
"What I mean is, nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Ever."

"You don't say."

Barry swallows, mouth going dry.  
Len is approaching him, slowly, like a cat circling his prey.

"I-I've been, and I still am, in love with my wife," Barry tries, desperate to find something, anything that will stop the torrent of feelings that are about to burst out of him.

"Good for you."  
Len is obviously not buying a word he says, and Barry knows why: all his body language is betraying him, his quickened breathing, his clammy skin betraying its paleness, his eyes probably wide and slightly unfocused.

He grabs the table again.  
"I don't know what it is about you, that I can't-"  
Barry gasps when his back hits the wall, and he realizes he has been retreating all along. He can't go anywhere now, though, as Len approaches him.

Closer.

Closer.

He will be on him any second now, and Barry's heart is in his throat.  
"I'm-I'm embarrassed to say this, but...I came here because I missed your eyes."

Len stops abruptly, then slowly takes his sunglasses off.  
His icy blue eyes zero in on Barry's own.  
"These eyes?" he asks, in a murmur, resuming his approach.

Barry swallows again and nods, shakily, unable to look away.  
Len's eyes are mesmerizing and Barry is gone. Done for.

"Barry" Len drawls, cupping his cheek.

Barry's eyelids flutter close at the contact as his whole body lights up.

"Barry, I want you," Len murmurs, so close to Barry's face that he can feel Len's warm breath against his lips. He parts them without thinking.  
When he realizes what is happening fear gnaws at his stomach and he scrambles away.

"No-no, this is not...not, this can't happen," he stutters, lifting his hand as if to keep Len away.  
"I won't deny I feel something for you, but even if- We have to keep it platonic. I'm not- We can't-"

Len presses a finger against Barry's lips, effectively shutting him up, and takes his lifted hand, lowering it slowly, tangling their fingers  
"I want you," he repeats, with the same self-assured, low, sexy tone, and really?

Barry is only a man.

***

The whole family has regrouped in the living room, straining to hear what is going on in the studio behind the closed door.  
Both Harrison and Lewis are very intent, ready to send their goons in to save Len if any sound of struggling is heard from the outside.  
Caitlin is curious and pleasantly surprised. She never thought Len was a coward, but she didn't peg him for a hero, either.

Out of the whole group, only Lisa, Jay and Mick are standing on the side, throwing speculative glances to the door from time to time.  
Jay is beside himself with embarrassment, imagining what might be going on between the two men, while Mick and Lisa worry about something going wrong.  
Len and Barry are risking it all for this chat and if anything goes askew it might be their last one.

At first, all they can hear is murmuring, then a few items being smashed or thrown around and suddenly, a sound that resembles a moan.  
Of pain, of course.  
At the first actual sound made by Len's voice, Lewis' goons stand up, guns at the ready, but Mick and Jay do the same.

"No one opens that door," Mick growls.  
"The Boss can take care of himself."

Harrison whistles.  
"You really do trust this guy, don't you?"  
He turns towards his daughter, with a smile.  
"Maybe we did make the right choice after all."

Caitlin smirks, her eyes shining with pride.  
"Can't wait to marry him," she murmurs, glaring at Lisa who's snickering.

***

When their lips touch for the first time, a crackle of electricity passes between them.

They pull back, gasping, equally surprised.

Then Len smiles, a real, tender, soft smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, and Barry is rendered speechless by how beautiful he is.  
This time when Len leans in Barry meets him half-way, lips already parted, welcoming Len's tongue as it slips inside.

He tangles his own tongue with Len's and fails to stifle the moan bubbling from his throat.  
Len tastes so damn good and his lips are way softer than Barry expected.  
His arms wrap around Len's neck as if by their own accord, and Len seems to appreciate it, because he groans and pulls Barry in, their fronts pressed flush against each other.

Barry moans again, slightly louder this time, when he feels Len's erection brushing against his own.  
He breaks the kiss, panting, forehead pressed against Len's.  
"Fuck," he murmurs, a little awed, and Len chuckles, breathless.

"That's the idea, yeah."

Barry chokes on his own saliva.  
"Wait, I didn't mean-"

But Len has already learned Barry's self-preserving tricks, apparently, because he simply kisses him again.  
The way Len kisses is mind-blowing.  
Barry has never been kissed this way, as if it was a fight, a contest, a dialogue.  
As if Len wants him to understand something and is going to kiss Barry until he gets it.  
Point is, Barry's already got it, but he keeps playing dumb because he doesn't want Len to stop kissing him.

His jacket is the first garment to fall, followed by his shirt and then Len's sweater.  
Barry's mouth waters as he finally gets to look at Len's tattoos in their complexity: the flowers, the Celtic symbols, the words, the designs obviously added to cover scars and battle wounds.  
He wants to lick and kiss every inch of Len's painted skin, and Len's chuckle tells Barry he said it out loud.

"Not this time, Barry, we don't have long," Len reminds him, as his long, pale fingers undo Barry's buttons and zipper, pushing his own jeans out of the way.

When Len's fist wraps around Barry's dick, Barry almost sobs in relief.  
He's hard and leaking, but it's nothing compared to how hard Len is.  
When Barry pulls Len's erection out, his eyes go wide.  
Aside from the size (fuck, Len is _huge_ ) his cock is burning up.

"You want me," Barry murmurs in awe.  
"You really want me."

Len lifts his chin so that he's looking at him.  
"I've never lied to you, Barry."

Their lips crash against each other, and Len jerks him off for a while, then all of a sudden Barry finds himself turned and bent over the pool table.

"Len, wait, I-" he tries to stop him, but then Len is dropping gracefully to his knees, spreading Barry's ass cheeks and just diving in.

Barry's brain explodes.  
No one has ever done this to him, and Jesus Christ, _what the fuck_?

Len's tongue is demanding and soft at the same time. It's wet and long and so flexible inside Barry's body.  
He's reduced to a moaning, sobbing mess in two minutes flat, forced to bite on his arm so hard he almost draws blood to stop himself from screaming out.  
His hips sway backwards, trying to get more of Len inside, anything as long as it's him.

"I'm ready, shit, fuck me, _fuck me_ ," Barry whimpers, and he would probably be ashamed of how wanton he sounds if Len's voice when he warns him to hold on tight to the table didn't sound just as wrecked and breathless.  
He knows he should worry about them being safe, he knows Len is a womanizer and who knows where he has been...but he can't bring himself to care. He wants him, so much, there is a familiarity in this that makes him feel safe and so he just thinks, _fuck it_.

And then...then Len pushes his monster cock inside Barry's body, and Barry expects pain or awkwardness, and of course with as little preparation as he had it does sting and hurt a bit, but instead of focusing on that all he feels is complete. Full. Overjoyed. “You okay?” Len asks, hoarsely, trying to stay still. “Am I hurting you?”  
Barry smiles at him and spreads his legs as far as he can, relaxing so that his body is free to welcome the intrusion.  
Len moans softly, right in Barry's ear, telling him how tight, how warm, how wet, how perfect Barry is, _made for me, Scarlet, you were fucking made for me..._

Barry twists his neck enough to be able to offer his lips to Len again, and the man doesn't make him wait.  
His tongue slides in Barry's mouth just as his dick slides in his ass, and he starts taking him, loving and demanding at the same time, and fuck, Barry will never ever forget this. 

He will never forget the sensation igniting every inch of his body when Len hits that spot inside Barry, again and again once he has found it.  
He will never forget Len's broken vows of eternal love and worship, his name whispered with such emotion and reverence, those big hands playing with his nipples as they touch Barry all over, as if to memorize him.

Barry knows this is more likely the first and last time he gets to be with Len this way, and he intends to make the most of it.

He arches his back and pushes Len back and away, stifling a whine at how empty he feels when Len's cock slides out of him, but he simply guides Len to one of the chairs. “I wanna try something” he pants, and as soon as Len is sitting down, Barry gets in his lap and impales himself on his cock, starting to ride Len with abandon. “Tell me this is okay” he whines, and Len just nods vehemently. Barry is quite sure that he has found his favorite position ever.  
This way, he can kiss Len any time he wants to, which is every thrust or so, as he stares into those eyes, usually so cold but now burning hot as Len stares back, while their connection sizzles and they get into a perfect rhythm.  
It's not going to last, it can't possibly. They are so keyed up, so in tune with each other that is barely surprising when they come at the same moment, Barry splashing both their abdomens with his warm come while Len fills his channel up and then pulls him close, holding Barry tight against his chest.  
His arms are shaking slightly, but Barry doesn't notice, because he's shaking as well.

If a couple of tears get mixed with their sweat, neither of them says anything, especially because they don't know to whom they belong.

***

They dress in silence.

Everything they had to say to each other was said, apparently, and they are back behind their respective walls.  
Now that they are not touching any longer, Barry feels cold, and he wraps the jacket around himself as if the thin piece of clothing could warm him up.

"If this is the last time we see each other, I want you to promise me," he says in the end.  
"I can't take the uncertainty. Besides, I work with the police and you're- You know."

Len clenches his jaw and looks away.  
"Don't you worry about that. I'm getting married tomorrow, after all, and even we criminals have ethics."

Barry feels an invisible hand squeeze his heart, and closes his eyes for a second, finding it hard to breathe.  
Imagining Len promising his life to someone else, maybe with the same vows he made for Barry only a handful of minutes prior is devastating.

He stands up, fists buried deep in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to Len.  
"Are you going to be happy?"

Len finally looks at him, and his eyes are red-rimmed and glossy.  
"Would my answer change anything?"

Barry swallows.  
"So this is goodbye, then."

Len offers him a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes and stares at his retreating back as Barry walks out of his life forever.  
"Goodbye, Barry."


	7. Stuck Here Only After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, in the end I got an extra chapter out of this. I really didn't want chapter 6 to be too heavy, and I really wanted the smut, so I had no other choice. Sorry?  
> This story will wrap up in this chapter, but let me warn you: this was planned as a series, so the ending will be an open one. I thank all of you who left kudos or a kind word for me; it was my first story posted on AO3, my first writing in this fandom and these characters that I came to love deeply, my first fanfiction in over 4 years and, most importantly, my first attempt at a weekly writing/posting. Before this story, I have always written my fics in one sitting (two tops) because my attention would sway and I'd risk to just drop the story once my muse decided to focus on something else. I guess I've grown up? IDK.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy and that you decide to stick around for the sequel.  
> Thank you all again!!

"We are all gathered here today to celebrate the union of this man and this woman in marriage. Leonard, Caitlin, did you come here to get married freely, under no pressure, fully aware of the importance of your choice? Are you ready to welcome with love any child God will bless you with?"

Caitlin's smile is bright when she looks at him, and Len just wants to throw up.   
After his stunt with Barry the previous day, and considering the noises they had heard from outside (and the way Barry looked disheveled and could barely walk away from the house), both his family and Caitlin's are now fully convinced he's a real man, without fear, who protected his family and crushed the opponent.

 

Oh, if only they knew who really got crushed in that room...

Once he had finally got the strength and the courage to come back out, he had found a thawed Caitlin waiting for him with her eyes full of desire, while his father and Harrison looked at him beaming with pride.   
Len felt like crying during the whole afternoon-and part of the night.   
The only reason he hadn't was that he knew he couldn't show up at the church with red-rimmed, swollen eyes, or they would know something was up.

Lisa came to his room around 2 am, sat on his bed and hugged him tight without a word.   
A couple of traitorous tears might have escaped then.

"...Len?"

Len snaps out of it, blinking, and he turns towards Caitlin who's pulling at his sleeve, a frown on her face.   
She does look exceptionally beautiful today, her auburn hair pulled up in the jeweled tiara Len himself gave to her and a light veil covering her white, naked back.   
Her dress is not as ostentatious as Len expected it to be; it's quite classy, in fact.

Len looks quite good too, if he says so himself: the grey tuxedo, the ice blue tie.   
Looking around, he realizes everyone is looking at him expectantly.   
"Oh! Yes, of course. Yes," he mutters, not even sure what the question was but knowing that's the only answer he can give to any of them.

Caitlin smiles again.   
"Yes," she echoes, almost bouncing excitedly on her chair.

The priest nods, satisfied.

 _Oh God, is this it? Are we already married?_ Len panics slightly, he thought there was still a bit of ceremony left, he's not ready to stand up and walk away as a married man, no-

"If your intention is to wed, show your commitment by holding each other's right hand and express your consent in front of God, your family and your friends," the priest goes on, interrupting Len's panic attack just in time.

Len lets out a relieved breath and shifts closer to Caitlin, taking her hand.   
His own is trembling slightly, but Caitlin's smile doesn't waver.

"Leonard, do you wish to take Caitlin as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Len's gaze shifts and he sees Jay's clenched jaw. He's clinging at the chair in front of him so hard his knuckles are white.   
When he realizes Len is looking at him, though, he makes the visible effort of relaxing and offering him a smile, which doesn't reach his eyes.

 _Damn, he is gone for this girl_ Len thinks, only slightly surprised.

Next to Jay, Mick and Lisa are sporting the same pinched, concerned expression.   
Aside from that, Lisa keeps looking around, as if she is waiting for something to happen.   
Len guesses she wants to put a stop to this circus as much as Len himself does, but neither of them will do anything, not now, not with the most powerful mob families in the country sitting with them and waiting for the ceremony to go off without a hitch.

Len swallows, hard, then turns to look at Caitlin's pretty, smiling face.   
He could have been dealt worse; he knows that. Caitlin will be a great asset for his new position, a strong, independent woman, just as ruthless as Len.   
It's just that her eyes are not the right ones.   
They don't crinkle at the corners, they don't change with the light.   
She doesn't have moles and freckles scattered on her nose, her lips aren't thin and slightly chapped, her jaw is not sharp and straight, her neck not long and slender enough.  
She is not Barry.

Len feels something clench in his chest and opens his mouth, not sure of what exactly is going to come out when he finally does speak, but before he can, another voice stops him, loud and clear, albeit a bit shaky.

"Len, please don't."

***

When Barry gets home he's barely inside the apartment before he crumples to the floor.   
His body aches everywhere and he knows he will be sore as hell tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

The day of Len's wedding.   
The day he loses him, for good: his laughter, his taut, muscular body, his courage, his eyes.  
Oh, God almighty, those _eyes_.   
Barry smacks the back of his head against the wall, again and again, trying to stop playing the afternoon behind his closed eyelids, but he can't.   
Those hours were the most exciting, the most intense, the best of Barry's life, and even if he can't admit it to anyone, especially not Len, he has to be honest with himself at least.   
Sex has never felt like this: like a deep connection, like something inevitable and perfect and just _right_.

And yes, he realizes what he told Len was true, they make no sense, they have no real hope of actually making it: a criminal and a law enforcer, they live on the opposite ends of the spectrum.   
Len acts against everything Barry stands for, and that's something Barry cannot accept.   
Then why, why can't he stop yearning for those arms, for that hoarse voice murmuring in his ear, for those unexpected, rare, precious smiles?   
Why can't he stop thinking about Len, dammit?

He starts to stand at least a dozen times, intending to go back there, to demand Len explains, rejects him, whisks him away...anything.   
He needs closure.   
He needs for those eyes to look into his and say that _yeah, kid, you're a great lay but I have to get on with my life of crime, and you really don't fit in my five year plan, so thank you for the memories and I'll be seeing you_.   
Only, he knows Len will never say anything like that.   
Len would probably be more like _I love you, Barry, please stay with me, we can try, we can do this, just don't leave,_ which is what unsettles Barry the most.   
The soft side, the tenderness of every touch and every glance.   
The warmth of Len's mouth as it marked Barry and turned his skin inside out.   
He can still feel the ghost of Len's touch on his body and it is driving him crazy.

He doesn't even know how long as it been since he got home, but by the time he actually manages to scramble up, there's light coming in from the blinds.   
He gets undressed and into the shower, but the water does little to clear his mind.   
He's tempted to rub one out to the memories of their encounter, but his heart is so heavy that he would probably feel even worse afterwards so he ignores his half-hard cock and focuses on performing all his morning rituals, trying to get back into gear.   
Any resemblance of normality he has managed gets shot to hell when he gets back to his bedroom and finds a text from an unknown number on his phone.

_Last chance, kid. He's walking down the aisle in less than an hour. He would look like a walking dream if his eyes weren't full of nightmares._

Barry clenches his fists, naked and still wet in the middle of the corridor, shivering.   
There's nothing he wants more than just run to Len, but what will happen after?   
Once he gets there, once he says what he has to say, what then?   
Len might decide to throw everything away for Barry, or just laugh in his face.   
Either way, they're fucked.

And not in the nice way.

He stands there, staring at the message, torn in two, when a second one comes through, from the same number.

_Just come and tell him he's not alone in this, you doofus, you'll have time to work out the rest later. And you better run fast._

Barry lifts his chin.   
Whoever is texting him is right.   
Len deserves to know he's not the only one who has fallen hard. He needs to know Barry is feeling the same way, he's equally gone and ready to just dive in and _try_.   
Because that's the only thing they have to do, after all.   
Try.   
Barry nods to himself, then grabs a towel with one hand as he types in three words with the other.

_On my way._

***

The whole wedding party looks like some sort of Renaissance painting.   
None of them turn towards the voice, they keep staring at the couple sitting in front of the priest.   
Only Lisa is smiling, relief clear on her face, while Mick and even Jay arch an eyebrow at Len.

 _What are you going to do, Boss?_ is the question they would like to ask him.

Len really doesn't know.   
He's still looking at Caitlin, still holding her hand, so he sees the ice in her pupils as her expression turns cold.   
That's when he knows, for sure, this could never work.   
No matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he stomps on his true feelings to suffocate them...he will never be able to build anything with someone like Caitlin.   
Len is the cold one, he needs someone warm to counter it, someone who understands and makes it all better.  
And there is only one person with such a warmth, with a heart that's big enough.   
He smirks at Caitlin, shrugs and stands up, turning slowly.

And of course, there's Barry.

He stands right there, in the middle of the aisle, at the back.   
He's wearing that same, wrinkled jacket (Len really needs to buy him something better, seriously, the man's a hobo) and his hair is wet and sticking out in all directions.   
There's a faint flush on his cheeks and he's panting, hard, like he's been running—did he actually run the whole way from his house?   
Len's heart swells at the thought of Barry zipping through the city to get to him, to stop him, to tell him he's making a mistake, to ask Len to choose him instead.   
He can't help the way his gaze softens and he sees the light dawning on Barry's face as Len walks up to him.   
As he passes, the rest of the wedding party stands up and turns, following him with their eyes, but Len just ignores them.   
All he can see is Barry, and his widening smile.

He doesn't run, exactly, but the last few steps are faster. He grabs Barry and pulls him back into the hotel, in a deserted hallway. As soon as they are alone, he pulls Barry in, against his chest, tight, so tight.

"You came," he mutters against Barry's neck, and Barry chuckles.

"Sorry I'm late."

Then Barry pulls back, expression turning panicked.   
"I'm not too late though, am I? I mean, you're still not-"

Before Len can reply, he hears a gun cocking.   
He doesn't need to turn to know it's either Harrison or his father.

"You disgusting scum, I should have let you die in that ice tub," comes the growl, and yeah, of course it's Lewis.

Len calmly moves in front of Barry, to shield him, but in the end he doesn't even need to turn.   
He hears the smacking sound of the punch and then Lewis's body crumbling to the floor.

"Damn, I've wanted to do that forever."

Len does turn then, and sees Mick standing over Lewis with a pleased smile on his face.

"Felt good, didn't it?" Jay asks, patting his back, and Len feels a new wave of affection and gratitude for his friends.

Lisa walks up to them, quickly, and puts a set of keys in Len's hand.   
"There's a bike parked out the back," she explains quickly.   
"Just go, I'll take care of everything."

"Lis..."   
Len looks at her, not knowing what to say.   
_Thank you_ is hardly adequate.

Lisa simply rolls her eyes.   
"Go, Lenny, you can make it up to me with a double date." She lightens the mood, winking at him, then turns to Barry.   
"You better take care of him and get the dreams back in those eyes," she states, and while Len looks confused, Barry just nods curtly and takes Len's hand in his.

"I will."

***

They do try to run, but in the end, there are too many cars, too many people pissed at them.   
Len drives the bike like a pro, not the first time he had to escape capture, only this time the people he's trying to lose are the same that taught him how to escape, so it wasn't a fair fight to begin with.   
They end up at the top of a building, in a parking garage, before they have to accept they're not making it out of this one.   
Len turns off the engine and gets off the bike, Barry follows him.

They hold hands tightly, their hearts beating like crazy, the thrill of the chase quickly ebbing into the fear of the outcome.   
In a moment they will be surrounded, and they know perfectly well what will become of them.   
They look at each other and even now, with his back against the wall, Len can't bring himself to think he has made a mistake.

"You are the one, Barry," he drawls, pressing against the other man's side from shoulder to hip.   
"The only one. I don't regret a thing."

Barry swallows and nods, eyes shiny and watery.   
"Neither do I," he replies, voice trembling but certain, as he squeezes Len's arm.

They lean in at the same moment, going for a kiss that might well be their last, when the screeching sound of tires freezes them on the spot.   
One after the other, the garage gets filled with cars.   
Len recognizes both his father's and Harrison's, plus a couple more with their goons and the rest of the clans who attended the wedding. 

He tries to shield Barry again, but this time the man doesn't let him.

"We're in this together, Len, I'm not letting you take the fall," he whispers, standing his ground at Len's side.

Len smiles and rubs his thumb on Barry's knuckles.   
"I love you," he murmurs.

"I think I do too."

They take a couple of steps back, until they are just a few inches from going over the edge.

"You little faggot, you'll pay for how you humiliated my daughter!" Harrison roars, gun at the ready and expression murderous, while Lewis, who's holding a bag of ice against his forehead, narrows his eyes and throws at Len the ugliest, most hateful glare he ever has (and that is saying a lot).

"You disgust me," he growls, and Len flinches, despite himself.   
He'd expected those words, sure, but they hurt anyway.

Mick and Jay are being restrained by Lewis's and Harrison's goons, and they shout at him to just run away, save himself, even if they know Len has nowhere to run.   
Besides, he would never leave Barry.   
He turns to look at him and cups his cheek, ignoring the retching sound coming from someone behind him.

"I'm a criminal," he drawls.   
"I don't know how to be in a relationship, I hog the covers and I have very cold feet."   
As he talks, he gently pushes Barry back.

Barry understands and smiles beautifully at Len even as he steps on the ledge and a tear escapes his long lashes.   
"Nobody's perfect," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around Len's neck and pulling him in for a desperate kiss.

Then, they jump.

***

"No...I can't die...we can't die, not now! Not like this!"

Len is surrounded by darkness, panting and shouting when he suddenly comes to.   
Slowly, the darkness gives way to a bright, white neon light and a smiling, familiar face.

"You're not going to die, Mr. Snart, not today and not for a very long time," he states, patting his shoulder.   
"Everything went well, the operation was a complete success."

Len blinks, his eyes trying to get used to his surroundings: he's in a hospital room.   
Well, not _a_ room. _His_ room. The room he stayed in after his operation.

"It was probably just a very vivid dream, it happens with the anesthesia," the doctor explains.

Len frowns.   
"Barry?"

The doctor looks confused for a moment, then laughs.   
"I guess it's true that he looks a lot like me, then. I'm Henry Allen, your doctor. You know my son?"

Len feels like he's in an alternate reality.

"You said...operation. Was it my eyes?"

Henry nods.   
"Of course, corneal transplant. As I was saying, it went off perfectly. You'll be back to normal in no time."

Len scratches his stubble, thoughtfully, then narrows his eyes.   
"Who did the corneas belong to?" he asks suspiciously, and the doctor's smile turns wistful.

"Donor chose to remain anonymous. It was the choice of the family."

Len glares at him.   
"And what if they belonged to a woman? They might turn me into a woman as well!"   
He knows he's making a mountain out of a molehill, but the dream is still too fresh, the desperation, the burning need, the love for a guy he really shouldn't have been into in the first place.

The doctor looks like he's about to reassure him, but right then the door opens and Caitlin, Harrison, Lewis, Lisa, Jay and Mick trickle in.

"Did I heard you right? You're afraid of turning into a woman?" Harrison mocks him.   
"My daughter as a great eye for men, you know. If she chose you, you're safe."

They all move around the bed, matching smiles on their faces.

"Poor Caitlin will have to deal you and your womanizer self after you get married, I truly pity her," Lisa says, winking at him.

Len starts to calm down.   
Everything seems to be okay, his family still loves him, the marriage is well on the way...he's safe.   
Nothing happened, he's straight as an arrow and life is good.   
He smirks.   
"What they gave me should be illegal," he drawls, and everyone laughs.

"Come on, let him rest," the doctor demands, guiding them all out of the room.

Mick is the last one next to the bed and he squeezes Len's arm.   
"I'd still have your back if anything happened, Boss," he murmurs in his gruff voice, and Len's smirk softens.

He knows that, better than Mick could ever imagine.

Once he's alone, he laughs at himself.   
How stupid of him to get so worked up because of a dream!   
Len sits up in the bed, fixing his sunglasses on.   
He's still a man, a womanizer. Nothing has changed.   
He turns on the TV, and groans to himself when, obviously, the damn Merlyn appears on the small screen.

"Be careful. Sometimes, the life we live in our dreams is a reality which might be more real than the one we live while we are awake."

Len frowns.   
How peculiar for him to be talking about that right now.

"In other words, the reality we dream about is a message from inside. A sneak peek, if you will, at your destiny, at your desires."

Len is about to turn off the TV, when the door to his room opens and someone rushes in.   
He recognizes the white lab coat, the CCPD logo on the pocket and his heart jumps in his throat.   
But then he looks up, and it's not Barry.   
Of course not, why would he be here?   
This guy is way taller and more built than Barry, with an impressively square jaw, piercing dark eyes and raven black hair.   
He also has a sweet, welcoming, bright smile that takes Len's breath away.

"Henry, I-oh, I'm sorry. I was looking for Dr. Allen?"

The guy's voice is friendly and earnest, and Len hides his hands under the bed-sheets.

"You just missed him, he left a couple of minutes ago" he replies, swallowing hard.   
"But I think he's coming back soon," he adds as an afterthought, trying to make the guy stay a little longer.

The guy looks conflicted for a moment, then shakes his head.   
"I'm afraid I can't wait for him, I have my rounds," he replies, rubbing the back of his head.

"Shame," Len drawls, and the guy blushes slightly. It makes him look even more handsome.

"I-I have to go, hope I'll see you again," the guy stutters, retreating.

"So do I," Len murmurs, more to himself than him, considering the guy is already halfway out the door.

Only then he realizes what has just happened: he was _flirting_ with another _man_.

"Oh, _shit_."

**Author's Note:**

> Please, let me know what you think! It's my first attempt at writing after a few years of inactivity, and it's also my first attempt at these characters...


End file.
